


While you were sleeping

by rubberglue



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-10-11 00:23:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 30,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10450872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubberglue/pseuds/rubberglue
Summary: Gwen has always been in love with Lancelot from a distance. When he gets into an accident and becomes unconscious, she says she's his betrothed - a lie that quickly gets out of control. Arthur is suspicious the moment he learns about this and is determined to find out just why she is lying, convinced that she is a spy sent by Hengist, leader of the enemy barbarian horde that has been terrorising the kingdoms of Albion.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the wonderful 90s romcom, While You Were Sleeping.

She kept her head down and her steps light. As one of the many serving girls in the castle, Gwen knew that she was invisible to most of the castle’s inhabitants. Usually, it chafed at her but today, she was glad she was so unimportant. It would make it easier to sneak into the North Tower, where the knights’ infirmary was. A few knights brushed past her, but paid her no attention. Then the corridors cleared and all that Gwen could hear was her own breathing and footsteps. Within minutes, she was at the tower, looking up at the curved staircase that led to the infirmary. A quick glance told her that she was all alone, and she snuck up the stairs.

As she walked up, her heart sped up - a mix of nerves and worry. The last time she had seen him, he had been pale and his breaths shallow. Blood matted his hair against his head and for a moment, Gwen had thought that he had died from the fall. Tears stung the back of her eyes and her throat seemed to have clogged up. But then she’d seen his chest move. As relief flooded through her, she quickly tore the bottom her skirt, pressing it against the wound on his head. Then, as she knelt next to him on the road, she prayed to the Gods that they wouldn’t take him now, not when he was so young and not when she hadn’t yet gotten the courage to speak to him.

“Only members of the Camelot knights are allowed here.”

Of course there would be a guard outside the infirmary. Why hadn’t she thought of that? Yet, she was just a few steps away from her goal.

“I just wanted to see how Lancelot is doing.” His name rolled off her tongue as if she’d been saying it regularly. She hadn’t even known his name until one of the knights who had come to his rescue said it. It was a fitting name - strong, sexy - like the man who owned it.

“I’m afraid that I can’t let you in.” The guard must have seen the desperation in her face as his tone had softened and he looked worriedly at her.

“Can you at least tell me how he is?”

The guard hesitated, then leaned towards her. “He’s still unconscious.”

“Still?” Her heart sped up again as worry flooded her. It had been almost a full day since the accident and she’d thought that he would have woken up by now - bruised and sore - but very much alive. She licked her suddenly dry lips. “Is he going to be alright?”

“Why do you care so much?”

The guard’s question startled her and she stared at him. At the moment, he was frowning slightly, looking quite serious but Gwen could imagine the mocking laughter that would come from him if she told him the truth.

“Well? Are you one of his conquests?”

Conquests? The word made her bristle with indignation. What she and Lancelot had - or didn’t have - was nowhere is lurid as that. Heat rushed to her cheeks and she met the guard’s narrowed eyes. “No. I’m his betrothed.”

“His betrothed?” The guard blinked. “But, you’re just a maidservant.”

Her pride stung at his words. Keeping her head up, Gwen ran her hands down her worn dress. “That doesn’t matter to Lancelot. He’s a true knight.”

The guard’s laughter echoed through the narrow stairwell and the worry that had taken up residence in her heart gave way to annoyance. All these royalty and knights - always thinking they were above the people they ruled. She pressed her lips together and was about to turn away when the guard finally stopped laughing.

“I should have known. Of course Lancelot would marry a maidservant.”

Gwen wasn’t quite sure if that was a compliment to Lancelot or a criticism, but she wasn’t about to push her luck. “Can I see him?”

The guard hesitated again before letting out a sigh, running his hand through his hair. “I guess it wouldn’t do much harm.”

She smiled so widely it hurt. “Thank you! I won’t tell anyone.”

He shrugged, then opened the door. “Gwaine is inside with him - another of his accidents, but I’m sure Lancelot has told you all about accident-prone Gwaine.”

“Yes, of course,” said Gwen as she stepped into the infirmary. It was much smaller than she’d expected and a lot darker as well. A few candles burned, casting dancing shadows against the walls and the beds. None of the windows were open, explaining why the whole place smelled a little musty.

“It’s funny. Lancelot never mentioned you. Or that he was planning to marry.”

There were 4 beds in the infirmary and two of them were occupied. Neither occupant looked like they were awake. “Well, as you said. I’m just a maidservant. It’s not something that Lancelot wanted to share so soon.”

“Mmm. Lancelot has always been somewhat private as well. Here he is.” The guard stopped at the bed at the furthest end of the room. “I’ll give you some privacy. With some luck, Gwaine won’t wake up either. He’s not big on privacy.”

“Thank you,” said Gwen, but the guard was already walking away.

For a while, Gwen just stood at the side of the bed, looking down at Lancelot. Besides the frantic minutes this morning and their brief encounter a few months ago, she had never been this close to him. He was even more handsome now, the shadows cast upon his face and the bandage wrapped around his forehead making him look like a mysterious, brooding hero. His thick, dark lashes framed eyes that Gwen knew were warm and brown. And those lips - how often had she wondered what it would be like to feel them against hers? Her eyes moved lower, gazing at the strong lines of his bare shoulders. It struck her then that the chest that moved rhythmically under the rough blanket was naked. She reached for a stool and sat down heavily.

“Hello,” she whispered. He didn’t stir. “I imagined talking to you often, but never like this. But this is good, because it’s easier. Not that I’m happy you’re hurt. I just … I hope you get better soon.”

Gwen sucked in a deep breath. Even with the love of her life unconscious, she could barely get out the words.

She tried again. “Hello. I’m Guinevere, although most people call me Gwen. That’s probably more appropriate. Guinevere always seems like a name for a princess and I’m no princess. I don’t know if you remember me, but I was there when you helped Old Susan with her escaped ducks, when all the knights just laughed. But not you. We chased the ducks back to her home and then you smiled at me. It sounds silly, I know, but my life changed then. It felt like I had been hit, but in a good way.”

She paused, slightly embarrassed. She wondered if Lancelot could hear her, despite his condition. Despite her wildest hopes and dreams, Gwen was also practical, and she knew that there was no happy ending for her and Lancelot. How could there be, when she couldn’t even find the courage to speak to him? And even if she did manage to, the guard was right. Knights never married maidservants.

A low whistle cut into her thoughts. “Of all people, I would never have imagined that Lancelot would be the one to inspire maidens to break into the infirmary. Frankly, I always thought it would be me.”

Gwen jerked around, her eyes scanning the dimness for the source of the words. Then, she saw him on another bed. Gwaine. “I did not break in.”

“Am I to believe that by-the-book Leon let you in?”

“I don’t care what you believe, but he did.”

Gwaine said nothing, but even in the shadows, Gwen could see the disbelief all over his face.

“I’m Lancelot’s betrothed.” The lie was much easier now, sliding off her tongue easily even as her brain asked her what she was doing.

“His betrothed. That is a surprise. I thought -” Gwaine shifted to sit up and his blanket fell to reveal his bare chest. Did no one wear clothes in the infirmary? “Never mind. I suppose this must have been a recent development, seeing that he mentioned you to no one.”

“We wanted to keep it quiet.”

“Leave her alone,” said Leon. “I let her in and I suggest you don’t tell anyone. She’s probably upset enough with Lancelot’s injuries. She doesn’t need you hassling her.”

Leon’s sudden defense of her took Gwen by surprise.

Gwaine raised his hands. “Hey, I wasn’t trying to hassle her. Anyway, I’m hungry. Is food going to be served soon?”

“You look like you’re perfectly fine. How about you make your way to the dining hall?”

“Always the slave-driver,” said Gwaine as he pushed himself off the bed. He limped towards the door where Leon stood, said something to him, then disappeared.

“Gaius will be coming to check on Lancelot soon. I suppose you can stay till then but you have to leave before night.”

“Thank you.” But once again, Leon had closed the door.

The silence stretched as Gwen continued to sit by Lancelot. She wondered about him. He was a relatively new knight, and although she’d lived her whole life in Camelot, she had never seen him or his family around. Gossip in the kitchens said that he’d rescued the prince and thus earned his knighthood. Unlike the other knights, Gwaine in particular, there were never stories of Lancelot with a coterie of women, nor were there stories of him mistreating the villagers. One of her friends had said that he was beautiful but boring. But Gwen didn’t think that goodness was boring.

“Ah, you must be the young knight’s wife-to-be.” Then Gaius frowned as he got closer. “Gwen? This is a surprise.”

She stood. “Gaius. Actually -”

“I didn’t realise that you and Lancelot were acquainted, much less about to get married.” He smiled. “Congratulations. He is a fine, young man. And I’m sure it is just a matter of time before he wakes.”

“But -”

“In fact,” continued Gaius as he picked up one of Lancelot’s lifeless hands, “since you have some basic physician skills, I can worry less about who would tend to him. There is an amazing amount of work to do in this castle and Merlin isn’t exactly dependable. In fact, right now he and Prince Arthur are off on some wild goose chase. His pulse still beats strong which is a good sign.”

Gaius continued to touch, poke and prod at Lancelot, all the time, keeping up a rambling monologue about what he was observing. At some point, Gwen wondered if Gaius was expecting her to take notes.

“The wound does not seem to be infected. But it needs to be changed regularly and it would be good to have you keep an eye on him.” He looked expectantly at Gwen.

“Of course,” said Gwen. “But -”

“Wonderful. I’m so glad he has you by his side.” Gaius began to place his equipment back into his bag. “His body is probably still in shock. I’m sure that he will wake soon.”

“Gaius, I have to -”

Gaius placed a hand on her shoulder. “You can do this, Gwen. You’re a strong woman.”

And before Gwen could clear up her lie, Gaius was leaving the infirmary. Why was everyone leaving her before she could respond to them? She looked down at Lancelot and hope fluttered in her chest. Perhaps looking after Lancelot would give her the opportunity to get closer to him. The image of Lancelot waking, then realising that she had been the one tending to him, drawing him to her floated in her mind.

Pushing away the guilt that gnawed at the edges of her mind, she stood.

“Sir Leon,” she said when she opened the door. “Gaius says that I have to keep an eye on Lancelot but I can’t do that if he remains here.”

It was a testament to how efficient the Camelot knights were. With moments of her subtle request, Lancelot was transferred back to his own room in the main castle, where Gwen was able to visit easily between her own duties.

“It is good that he has you,” said Leon, echoing Gaius’s words and unwittingly feeding her guilt. “I hope he wakes soon. If you or him need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Thank you,” said Gwen.

This time, Leon was still there. He nodded and smiled slightly, his eyes drifting to Lancelot’s unmoving form before taking his leave.

Gwen too looked down at Lancelot, then at his sparsely furnished room and she wondered what she had just gotten herself into.

 

* * *

 

As much as Arthur loathed to admit it, the trip had been a complete waste of time. He was tempted to blame it on Merlin, but the truth was it was his own fault that he had been seduced by the idea of finding that elusive scourge of Albion - Hengist. Rumors had swirled that Hengist had found sanctuary in Cenred’s kingdom and Arthur had made an impulsive decision to find out if there had been any truth to that.

Bad weather, amongst other things, made their journey a fruitless one. Aside from exhausted horses, they had discovered absolutely nothing. No, that wasn’t completely true. He’d discovered that Cenred was a terrible ruler and the villages under his rule were suffering. In a fit of pity, Arthur had given all his supplies to the last village they passed.

And now, Leon was telling him that one of his most promising knights was unconscious. The unconscious part, while troubling was not that much of a surprise. The life of a knight necessitated many injuries. It was Leon’s rather casual mention of Lancelot’s wife that was shocking.

“His wife?”

“His wife-to-be,” said Leon. “She has been taking care of him and while the wound on his head is healing, he’s still not awake.”

“When did Lancelot acquire this wife-to-be?”

“It seems that he’s been very quiet about it.”

Arthur frowned. As knights, they practically spent all their waking hours together. Surely if Lancelot had somehow started wooing some woman and intended to marry her, Arthur would have heard something about it. Or considering how close Lancelot and Merlin were, Merlin would have known. And Merlin was utterly awful at keeping secrets so Arthur would have known as well, which only left Arthur with one conclusion. Whoever this woman who had been so tenderly tending to Lancelot was, she was lying. And Arthur would get to the bottom of it.

“Where’s Merlin?”

“I have not seen him, my lord.”

“If you see him, tell him I’m looking for him,” said Arthur, then waved a hand to dismiss Leon.

He stretched as he walked to his window. Beneath, the town was bustling. The Sunday market was in full swing and the sound of bargaining and laughter drifted up. This was what peace sounded like and Arthur was determined that this peace would last, which was why hunting down Hengist was so important. His father dismissed Hengist as a small-time bandit, believing that he had neither the wiles nor the strength to take on Albion’s largest kingdom. And if Hengist wanted to rain terror on the other kingdoms, that was hardly Camelot’s problem.

“In fact,” Uther had said once, “if Hengist and his men weaken the kingdoms, then it would provide the perfect cover for Camelot to enter the kingdom, save them and absorb it into our territory.”

Some days, Arthur thought Uther’s perspective, while cold, made sense. Other days, he wondered. Merlin definitely did not agree, and made his opinions known often and loudly and was part of the reason the two of the them had made the recent trip to Mercia to ferret out Hengist.

“Leon said you wanted to see me.”

Arthur turned from the window to see Merlin stride into his chambers. There was, of course, no bow or greeting. Just his manservant plopping himself on Arthur’s chair and grabbing a grape from Arthur’s fruit bowl.

“You’re not going to whine about the trip again, are you?” asked Merlin just as he popped the grape into his mouth.

“Actually, I wanted to ask you about Lancelot.”

Merlin stilled, his arm reaching towards the fruit bowl but not quite there yet. “What about Lancelot?”

“Did you know that he is about to get married?”

Arthur wondered just how many grapes Merlin had stuffed into his mouth when he started coughing. “Married!”

“According to Leon, his so-called wife-to-be has been looking after him since his injury. Changing his bandage, cleaning his wounds, talking to him and so on.”

“I see. I just visited him, but his - uh - wife-to-be was not there.”

Arthur pulled out another chair and sat down. “So you don’t know who she is.”

“He never mentioned her but Lancelot has always been very private,” said Merlin as he reached for the fruit bowl again.

“Why do you look so shifty?”

“I don’t look shifty.”

“Right.” But Arthur had more important things on his mind that Merlin’s shiftiness. “I think that woman who is pretending to be his wife is up to something.”

Merlin chewed on his lips, a frown creasing his forehead. “We don’t know for sure if she is pretending,” he said slowly.

“Please.” Arthur rolled his eyes. “You and Lancelot are close. If you don’t know that he’s getting married, then obviously he is not and that woman is lying.”

“Let’s say you’re right. Why would she do that?”

“I don’t know. Money maybe.”

Merlin lifted a skeptical eyebrow. “There’s no money in being a knight. Much less in being a knight’s wife.”

“True. But there are other benefits - honour, influence and security.”

“I suppose that could be attractive, but surely her lie would be exposed once Lancelot wakes.”

“What if she is planning to kill Lancelot before he can wake?”

Merlin made a rude noise. “She’s had plenty of time to do it and he’s still alive, as far as I can see.”

It was always annoying when Merlin was sensible. And it was annoying now. Lancelot had no plans to get married, Arthur knew it in his gut. But he had no idea why some woman would volunteer to look after him and pretend to be his wife.

Then, it struck him.

“Maybe,” he said quietly, “she was sent by Hengist.”

“Like a spy?” Merlin’s answer was said in a whisper as well.

Arthur nodded. The more he thought about it, the more he was convinced that it might be true.

Merlin ate more grapes before sighing. “We can’t just accuse her without any proof. And what if we are wrong? Lancelot is not going to be happy to find out that his wife-to-be was under suspicion, or worse, chased away because of it.”

“I guess we have to unearth some proof then.”

“I guess. I think you’re creating trouble where there is none, by the way,” said Merlin, but Arthur could see that his mind was distracted again.

Shifty, as usual, Arthur thought.

With no pressing royal engagements that evening, Arthur dined with his knights. Although Lancelot wasn’t the most boisterous of the knights, his presence was missed and it put a bit of a cloud over the dinner, so Arthur was glad when Gwaine suggested a visit to the tavern. Some alcohol might lighten their spirits and Arthur thought that he could ask them about Lancelot’s mysterious wife-to-be.

As usual, the tavern was busy with all kinds of people - merchants, villagers and mercenaries. They commandeered the table in the dark corner of the tavern and Leon obligingly went to get their drinks. Gwaine was holding court with some tale of some misadventure that had landed him in the infirmary again when he suddenly stopped as a young barmaid walked past.

“If it isn’t Lancelot’s betrothed!”

Arthur had only been half-listening to Gwaine’s rambling, but now, he was all ears. The young barmaid had stopped walking, but she looked like she would run away at any moment. She was a small thing, attractive in that wholesome village way with pretty, brown eyes. He supposed she looked like someone Lancelot would fall for - all curves and innocence. But Arthur also knew that appearances could be deceiving.

“Sir Gwaine, Sir Leon.” Her smile was tight and she curtsied. Then, her eyes met his. “My lord.”

“Lancelot’s betrothed,” said Arthur, trying to keep his suspicions out of his voice. “What is your name and why has Lancelot never mentioned you?”

His words seemed to embolden her and she straightened, her chin lifting almost as if in defiance. “Gwen, my lord. And he had only just asked me to marry him not long before he had the accident.”

She was a good actress, her eyes darkening with worry as she spoke of Lancelot’s accident and her voice wobbling a little.

“She’s been taking good care of Lancelot,” said Gwaine. “I’m almost jealous.”

“I’ve heard,” said Arthur as he continued to examine her, this time noticing the light dusting of freckles on her face. “You should join us. As Lancelot’s wife-to-be, we would love to get to know you better.”

His words hung in the air as Gwen simply stared at him, her eyes widening slightly.

“I like that idea,” said Gwaine. “I would love to get to know you better.”

“Shut up, Gwaine,” retorted Leon. “Sorry Gwen. He’s a little tipsy.”

The fact that his knights were casually calling her Gwen only made Arthur more suspicious. He and Merlin hadn’t been gone that long and they were already so familiar with her.

“I couldn’t. Muriel needs help in the tavern today. But I appreciate the offer.” She curtsied again, then walked off.

Arthur watched as she walked towards the bar, trying not to notice how her hips swayed.

“Pretty one. Capable too. I almost wish I’d caught her eye first.”

Leon laughed. “One girl is never enough for you.”

Gwaine raised his tankard. “True. The more the merrier.”

The conversation returned to the bragging and tall tales of before, Lancelot’s wife-to-be clearly no longer on any of his knights’ minds. But Arthur couldn’t help sneaking peeks at her as she bustled about the tavern. He had never noticed her before, but there was no reason he would have. She smiled and laughed with the other patrons but avoided their table, increasing his suspicions about her. By the time they stumbled out of the tavern, Arthur was determined to find out who she was and why she was lying.

“Are you still worrying about Hengist?” Leon asked as they walked back to the castle.

“A little. I’m also worried about Lancelot.”

“Gaius and Gwen are taking good care of him. It’s just a matter of time.”

“Why didn’t he tell us he was planning to get married?”

Leon shrugged. “I don’t know. But Lancelot isn’t one who talks about himself a lot. Until now, I don’t even know anything about his family.”

Arthur grunted. That was true. Arthur knew very little of Lancelot’s background as well.

“You don’t think she’s lying, do you? She really loves him. I’ve seen how tender she is with him.”

“I’m just curious,” said Arthur. “The news took me by surprise.”

“You’re not the only one.”

Yet, neither Leon nor Gwaine seemed the least concerned about this surprise wife-to-be. Arthur rubbed his head. He’d always trusted the instincts of his knights. Was he overthinking things, he wondered. Then, he thought of the look of fear that had crossed her face when Gwaine had called out to her and then of how she’d managed to avoid their table all evening. She was a woman with something to hide, and Arthur was going to find out what exactly that was.

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Gwen was sitting by Lancelot’s bed, working on a piece of embroidery, when the door opened. Immediately, she said a little prayer that it wasn’t the prince again. Since their brief meeting in the tavern two nights ago, she had had the misfortune of having to endure a most painful visit from him. It was not something she hoped to repeat.

He had walked into Lancelot’s room without even bothering to knock, but who expected the prince to have manners anyway? Then, with barely any attempt at pleasantries, Prince Arthur had launched a volley of questions at her, demanding all sorts of details about her relationship with Lancelot. Annoyance gave Gwen courage and she’d just told him that it was none of his business.

“I am the Prince of Camelot,” he’d huffed.

In response, she had shrugged and returned her attention to her embroidery.

He then settled into a chair on the other side of Lancelot’s bed and spent a good length of time scowling at her in the semi-darkness. Refusing to give him the pleasure of thinking that he was making her uncomfortable, Gwen remained by Lancelot’s side for much longer than she’d planned.

It was a game of who blinks first.

And it was the prince who blinked first, summoned by his father.

“I’ll be back,” he said.

“I can handle taking care of Lancelot,” said Gwen sweetly. “I wouldn’t want to take you away from your important duties.”

The smile he gave her wasn’t even close to reaching his eyes. But neither was hers. “Now, what kind of leader would I be if I abandoned one of my knights and his wife-to-be?”

Biting down on a retort, Gwen merely dipped her head. “I appreciate your concern.”

As the door closed behind the prince, Gwen had rolled her eyes, before guilt filled her. The prince had every right to be suspicious of her, especially since she was lying to him. 

“Gwen?” Leon’s head appeared instead, sending relief coursing through her.

“Oh.” She stood. “Come in.”

Leon walked into the room. He had a tray of food with him, which he placed on the table next to Lancelot’s bed. “Any changes?”

“His wound is almost healed, but he hasn’t woken at all.” She looked at the tray of food, laden with all the luxuries that was apparently befitting a wife of a knight. Just two days ago, no one cared it she had eaten and now one of the senior knights was bringing her lunch. “Thank you for the food, but you shouldn’t have.”

“It isn’t much. Mostly leftovers from lunch,” said Leon dismissively.

“Thank you.” Leftovers that as a mere maidservant, Gwen knew she would never have had a chance of eating. Yet now, a knight was presenting it to her. That feeling in her stomach was not hunger and she settled back down on the chair, picking up her embroidery again.

“We have no training tomorrow.”

Gwen looked up at Leon who was leaning against one of the walls. “What do knights do on their day off?”

Surprise flashed in Leon’s eyes. “What does Lancelot say that we do?”

“He’s always been very reluctant to say.” The lies were becoming easier and easier, one piling on top of another. Her stomach lurched. “Actually, -”

Leon chuckled, then crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t even want to know what Lancelot’s reluctance has led you believe. We are all very wholesome.”

“That,” said Gwen, a smile tugging at her lips, “is hard to believe.”

“I’m offended. We are - what was the phrase you used - true knights.” Amusement was evident in Leon’s voice. “In fact, I think you should take the day off and come with us tomorrow.”

“I - no, I can’t. I’ve chores tomorrow and Lady Morgana will need me to help her -”

“Don’t be silly. You are about to be a knight’s wife. You can take a day off. I’ll speak to Arthur now to arrange it.”

“Oh no. Please. That's too much trouble."

Leon narrowed his eyes, and for a moment, Gwen thought that he realised what a liar she had been. And while part of her feared the consequence of her lie, another part of her eagerly welcomed the discovery.

“Elaine will be with us,” said Leon, crushing her hopes. “You won’t be the only knight’s wife there.”

“I am not a knight’s wife,” said Gwen faintly.

Leon smiled. “Wife-to-be then. Tomorrow will be fun.”

Her confession stuck in her throat, Gwen watched as Leon left the room. With a sigh, she sat back down on the chair. Beside her, Lancelot continued to sleep, completely unaware of the lie that he had been dragged into. Gwen closed her eyes and massaged her forehead.

Eventually, she picked at the food, then brought the tray back to the kitchens. A few of the servants eyed her cautiously and Gwen knew then that news of her ‘betrothal’ had reached their ears. She made polite talk with a few of them before quickly leaving.

She had to tell the truth. Part of her feared the consequences of doing that - without her supposed link to Lancelot, how harshly would the knights treat her? Men and women had been thrown into the dungeons for much less by the King. She had little faith that Prince Arthur was any different. If only she hadn’t offered to help out in the tavern that night. No, if only she hadn’t opened her mouth without thinking outside the infirmary.

“Gwen.”

Startled, she looked up to see Gwaine walking towards her just as she was about to leave the castle. She dipped into a curtsey and in response, he broke into a grin.

“Are you on your way home?”

“Yes.”

“Well then. Let me have the pleasure of escorting you home.”

“I’ve walked home alone plenty of times. I don’t need an escort,” said Gwen. “But thank you for the thought.”

Gwaine lifted an eyebrow. “Lancelot never walked you home?”

“Actually, I have something that I need to tell you. Lancelot and I are not getting married.” The words tumbled out of Gwen’s mouth and her hands gripped her skirt.

“Did he - is he dead?” Gwaine took a step towards her, his face ashened. “I am so sorry. Why didn’t -”

She shook her head. “No, no. That’s not -”

“Good. He will make it, Gwen,” said Gwaine with an emphatic nod of his head. “I know it’s been hard on you, but you can’t give up on him now.”

“I’m not.”

“He needs you. I was surprised at first when I learnt of you, but it makes sense. Lancelot doesn’t seem to have any family so I’m glad he has you, even if I still wish I had met you first.” Humour glinted in his eyes. “Let me walk you back. It is what Lancelot would have wanted.”

“I’ll walk with Gwen. I’ve been meaning to catch up with her.”

“Merlin,” said Gwaine, his eyes looking over her shoulder. “I’ll leave you two to it then.”

They lingered on the steps just outside the castle, the cool evening air doing little to ease the tension that pulsed between them. Merlin knew - there was no doubt about that. And for one whole day, he had held his tongue.

“I didn’t mean to lie.” Gwen finally said, keeping her eyes focused on the scene in front of her. As the sun sank, the main square was bustling with people heading back to the middle and lower town, back to their homes and their families. At that thought, her heart clenched. She had a home in the middle town but since her father’s death, it had been empty.

“I know what it’s like to have secrets,” said Merlin after a while. He walked down the steps, then waited for Gwen to follow. “It’s easy to fall into a lie, then find out you can’t get out of it.”

She expected Merlin to elaborate on what he was saying, but he stopped talking, and they continued to walk in silence.

The sun finally disappeared in a warm glow of red and orange, and various knights began lighting the street lamps. Some nodded at her as they walked passed, and she inclined her head in response. Just two days ago, none of them would have even paid her any attention.

They walked in silence. Once they reached her small home, she sighed. “What do I do?”

“It’s hurting no one,” said Merlin as he settled onto the small bench outside her house. “And Lancelot gets someone to look after him. I … I’m glad you’re there for him.”

Gwen sat down next to Merlin, tucking her skirt under her legs. “He’s not going to thank me when he wakes up and finds himself expected to marry me. He doesn’t even know who I am. I need to tell the truth. Hopefully, all that will result is removal from my maidservant duties to Lady Morgana. Working in the kitchens only will mean less pay, but I can make it work.”

She snuck a glance at Merlin who was staring straight ahead. For someone who wasn’t about to be sentenced to death for lying, he seemed stiff and tense. Gently, she bumped her shoulder against his, gaining his attention and a slight smile. Perhaps he hadn’t walked with her because he wanted to discuss her lies. Perhaps he needed a listening ear and all she could do was talk about herself.

“And how are you?”

“Good. Mostly.” Then, he reached over and took one of her hands. “You really like Lancelot, don’t you?”

A familiar heat filled her cheeks and she dropped her eyes to her lap. “He’s chivalrous, kind, generous …” Gwen stopped, biting her lower lip. “He’s a good man and I would be lucky to marry someone like him.”

Merlin squeezed her hand. “Any man would be lucky to have you as a wife.”

“I have to tell them the truth. Perhaps to Leon first. He has been very nice. Or maybe Gwaine - he would probably think that the whole thing is hilarious and -”

“I don’t think you should tell them,” said Merlin.

“Why? Lancelot is not going to wake up and decide to marry me.”

Merlin shook his head. “That’s unlikely.”

Gwen pressed her lips together, stung by Merlin’s easy dismissal of any interest Lancelot might have in her. Not that he was wrong. Despite the other knights’ unquestioning acceptance of her as Lancelot’s betrothed, the reality was that people like her rarely rose above their station. How often had she spent surreptitiously watching Lancelot as he patrolled the lower village, dreaming that he would one day notice her, speak with her, fall for her? Nothing but a silly dream.

“It’s not you, Gwen.” Merlin’s fingers tightened around her hand. “I don’t mean that -”

She shrugged. “You’re right. What would a knight want with me? And that’s why I need to stop this now.”

“Lancelot can help you.”

“How?”

“The lie isn’t hurting anyone. When Lancelot wakes, I’ll tell him to play along for a while. Then, a break up. Simple and you won’t need to worry about your job.” Merlin sounded pleased with his plan, and Gwen had to admit it was a good one. Assuming Lancelot went along with it.

“How do you know Lancelot will play along?”

“He will.” Merlin smiled at her. “You are a good judge of character, Gwen. Lancelot is a good man.”

Gwen smiled back, even as her heart ached. “I’m glad to know he’s a good man.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Arthur knew that Leon was married, but it was one of those things that hovered at the periphery of his mind and never quite seemed real. But evidently Elaine really existed. She was a quiet, elegant woman - beautiful in the way so many noble ladies were. The opposite of Gwen, he thought as he observed her laughing with Merlin, her legs swinging as the two of them sat on the low branch. No lady would swing their legs like that, giving random strangers glimpses of her bare skin under her skirts.

“Why is she here?” He’d demanded when he’d arrived at the courtyard and saw her talking to Gwaine.

“I thought this would take her mind off Lancelot. She’s been spending all her free time with him,” said Leon as he passed the reins of Llamrei to him. “It must be pretty stressful for her. Anyway, I thought we could get to know her better, and maybe get to know Lancelot better.”

Arthur grabbed the reins, swung himself onto his horse, then sent one more glare towards Gwen.

And now, they had settled at their usual spot next to a placid lake and Arthur couldn’t stop glancing at Gwen. Leon and Elaine were leaning against a tree, whispering to each other. There was a shy smile on Elaine’s face as she looked at Leon. In the lake, Gwaine and Percy splashed around. Aside from the presence of the two women, it was just another rest day for the knights. Arthur picked up a piece of bread and popped it into his mouth.

Gwen hopped off the branch, then walked to the edge of the lake. After a moment's hesitation, she toed off one shoe, then dipped her toes into the water. Her ankle was slender and curvy, the skin smooth and touchable. Arthur wondered if he was able to encircle her ankle with one hand. Her giggle pulled him out of his completely inappropriate thoughts and he directed a scowl at her.

“Come into the water,” said Gwaine as he waded towards her, one arm reaching towards her.

Arthur sighed. What was it about Gwen that his knights were so quickly fond of her? With the threat of Hengist looming over them, didn’t they realise that spies and traitors were everywhere?

“If I didn’t know better, I would think that you were interested in her.”

“Merlin! Don’t creep up on me like that.”

Merlin sat down next to Arthur, reaching over him to grab some cheese. “You’d have heard me coming if you weren’t frowning so hard at Gwen. What’s your problem with her?”

“How well do you know her?”

“Pretty well, I think. She was my first friend in Camelot.”

Arthur grunted, then focused his eyes back on Gwen who was now standing with both feet in the water, her skirt lifted slightly. She really needed to keep those legs of hers covered. “Did you know she and Lancelot were getting married?”

“I knew she had feelings for him,” said Merlin. “Both of them are pretty private people.”

“Still, you would think that Lancelot would have mentioned something about seeing her. I don’t think I’ve ever seen them talk to each other.”

Merlin leaned over him again and grabbed some grapes. “Are you suggesting Gwen is lying?”

Arthur shrugged.

“She’s my friend,” said Merlin, his voice taking on a steeliness that Arthur hadn’t heard before. “And I trust her.”

Arthur looked at Merlin, the manservant with more secrets than Arthur had swords. Yet, he inexplicably trusted Merlin. Arthur let out a sigh. That didn’t mean he should trust Gwen.

Water splashed onto Arthur’s foot. “Gwaine. Can’t you dry yourself first?”

“Hungry.” More water dripped on Arthur as Gwaine picked up a piece of chicken. “Good stuff.”

They were joined soon by Percival, then Gwen. Her hair was coming loose from her bun, curls framing her face that was flushed. A bright smile lit up her face as she settled down next to Gwaine. He said something to her and her smile got bigger. An elbow hit his side.

“Merlin!”

“Probably should stop with the staring,” said Merlin around bites of food. "It's getting creepy."

Their stomachs full of food and the sun rays warm against their skin, sleep crept up on them. Arthur was dozing off when he heard it. It was soft, barely a rustle at first, but it made the hairs on Arthur’s arms stand. He stood, shaking off the shackles of sleep, then kicked at Merlin, who simply grumbled, then shifted away from Arthur’s foot. Arthur prodded Merlin again, then unsheathed his sword, the weight comforting in his hand. The only one still awake appeared to be Percival.

“Percival. Wake everyone up. We need to leave.”

Percival nodded, always the silent giant. Within moments, everyone was roused. The picnic was packed away quickly and the knights drew their swords. They edged towards their horses and mounted them.

“Let’s go.” Leon commanded, as he sat astride his horse, Elaine held securely in the circle of his arms. With a single, sharp jerk on the reins, Leon’s horse galloped off, quickly followed by Percival, Gwaine and Merlin.

But where was Gwen? The thought had barely crossed his mind when three men stepped out from behind some trees, weapons in their hands.

“Nobles out to play in the forest,” sneered the one with a large, bushy beard that looked that it might house remnant food from his previous meals.

Did they recognise him? If they did, they weren’t letting on, merely approaching him slowly, boxing him in from all sides. Bandits were not unusual in the forests but Arthur couldn’t help but wonder if they were Hengist’s men and if Gwen’s disappearance had something to do with it.

With a flick of his wrist, he raised his sword and widened his stance. Three on one, and he hoped there were only three, was not ideal but nothing that Arthur hadn’t faced before.

The skinny, bald one lurched at him.

It didn’t take too long and two of the men were easily dispatched. His bloodied sword in his hand, Arthur looked around the area for the last one.

Then an arrow whizzed past him.

Swearing, he dodged behind a tree, crouching close to the ground. Arthur picked up the arrow and looked at it. The workmanship was rough and a crude circle had been carved on it - Hengist’s symbol. Tamping down his fury, Arthur made his way to where the horses had been secured. No sign of the third man or of Gwen. Leaves rustled and birds chirped, and nothing seemed amiss, except for the arrow in his hand and the two bodies .

Then he heard the whimper. For a moment, Arthur thought that he’d imagined it, but then he heard it again. Changing directions, he made his way towards the sound, his hand wrapped tightly around the hilt of his sword.

He saw her then, pressed against the trunk of a tree. Her lower lip was caught between her teeth and she cradled her leg. He was about to make his way to her, when it occurred to him that it might be a trap.

Then, she turned her head and their eyes met. In her eyes, Arthur could see both fear and pain. He should turn away, get Llamrei and leave. But he couldn’t tear his gaze from her. What if he was wrong about Gwen? How could he leave an unarmed woman when there was at least one more bandit around? How would he explain to Lancelot that he'd left his betrothed to die?

He sighed, then moved towards Gwen.

He’d barely moved when another arrow flew past. Instinctively, he flung himself at Gwen, pressing her onto the ground. Under him, Arthur heard her suck in her breath. For a moment, they stayed like that, his body over hers. He tensed and listened, but other than the sound of insects and birds, and the wind in the trees, Arthur couldn’t hear anything else.

But he was sure that the last man was still there, watching and waiting.

“Sire.”

Her warm breath fluttered against his cheek and, pushing himself up on his elbows, he looked down. Her brown eyes were wide and Arthur was suddenly acutely aware of her beneath him - the rise and fall of her chest, the feel of her hips pressing into his and her legs against his. She was so small, so delicate and as he stared into her panicked eyes, protectiveness swelled in him.

Dipping his head, he whispered into her ear, “It’s going to be fine.”

He felt her shiver, and instinctively, he tightened his arms around her, pressing her into the soft earth.

It was probably no longer than a few minutes, but lying there, entangled with Gwen, it felt like forever. Arthur was painfully aware of her every move, every tiny shift of her legs, every breath she let out. When there seemed to be no more flying arrows, he eased himself off Gwen, settling down a slight distance away. With a muffled groan, Gwen sat up as well. She touched her leg, and it was then Arthur noticed that her leg was bleeding.

“What happened?”

She nodded her head at a spot further away. “An arrow grazed me. It’s not too bad. I should be able to ride.” Her tongue darted out, wetting her lips. “Thank you, my lord.”

“Why didn’t you get on the horse when Percival alerted everyone?” Now his skin wasn’t against hers, suspicion started to creep back into his mind.

“I was going to, then the arrow came. I fell -”

He heard the crunch of grass, reached out and grabbed Gwen, thrusting her behind him. From the corner of his eye, Arthur noticed movement. The last bandit was probably still out there. Cover was limited but staying in one spot would be a death sentence.

“Can you run?” he asked, taking Gwen’s hand.

“Yes.”

“We are going to have to run, keep moving so that he can’t take aim.”

“Yes,” she said more firmly.

“Let’s go.”

Arthur ran, his hand holding onto Gwen’s tightly. She kept up for a while, but he could feel her strength ebbing and she started to slow down. He pulled at her, practically dragging her with him. Behind him, she sucked in a breath, then stumbled.

“Keep moving,” he hissed.

He caught sight of a small cavern. Ideally, Arthur wanted to get to their horses and ride back to Camelot, but it was clear that Gwen was finding hard to keep up. The cavern would give them shelter and a chance to rest.

And perhaps spending time alone with Gwen when she was vulnerable would give Arthur the opportunity to find out who she was working for and what she was up to.

His mind made up, Arthur pulled at Gwen. “This way. Here.”

The cavern was cold but dry. A quick glance suggested that it was small, which meant that there was unlikely to be other inhabitants. He told Gwen to sit down and he lurked at the entrance for a while, watching. The last bandit would have to enter the cavern to get to them, losing whatever advantage he had with his bow. Unsurprisingly, there was no sign of the last bandit and once Arthur was confident that the bandit had given up, he walked back to where Gwen was huddled.

He sat down next to her, leaning against the cool, hard wall of the cavern. He closed his eyes and let out a breath.

“Are we safe?” The slight tremble in her voice tugged at his heart. 

“For now,” he said, opening his eyes. “How is your leg?”

She shrugged, then reached over to pull her skirt up. He shouldn’t stare, Arthur knew, but he couldn’t help it as the dirty, damp skirt was eased up, revealing her legs to his eyes. Blood crusted around the wound near her calf. 

“It’s not too bad,” she said.

Arthur cleared his suddenly dry throat. “Let’s clean it up and dress it. Then we can get the horses and return to Camelot.”


	3. Chapter 3

Gwen counted backwards from 100, trying to ignore the man whose head was bent over her leg, his fingers moving none-to-gently across her calf as he tied a scrap of cloth torn from his top around her wound. She wasn’t quite sure what it was that fluttered in her stomach - annoyance that he’d insisted on dressing her wound despite her protests, or something else that she rather not dwell upon.

A firm yank and the blonde head lifted, their eyes meeting and for a while, it felt as if time had stopped. She had never noticed just how blue his eyes were or how easy they were to look into. He cleared his throat and Gwen immediately dropped her gaze. She suspected that she might be breaking some rule by staring directly at the crown prince in this manner.

With more grace than Gwen suspected she had, Arthur stood. “Right. That should be enough until we get back to the castle.”

She meant to thank him. “Didn’t think a prince would know how to dress a wound.”

He rocked back on his heels, and crossed his arms, causing his tunic to rise, exposing a band of bare skin. Gwen’s gaze went to it before she caught herself. Dragging her eyes up to the prince’s face, she saw him frowning. That was probably another rule broken. She really needed to watch her mouth around the prince. The moment she no longer had the protection of being Lancelot’s betrothed, there was every chance the prince would throw her into the dungeons for one wrong word. His father would.

“I can do a lot of things.”

“Shall we return to the castle?”

“Not yet.”

His tone brooked no dissent, so Gwen didn’t even bother. Instead, she girded herself for what she knew was coming.

Warily, she watched as Arthur paced the small cavern. For a long while, he remained silent, the scuff of his shoes against the ground the only sound she heard.

“Are you planning to kill me?” That thought had suddenly popped into her head when she realised that she was all alone with the prince. No one would question her disappearance - perhaps Merlin, but as much as Merlin was her friend, his loyalty to Arthur was unshakeable.

That question stopped Arthur in his tracks. “What kind of question is that?”

She shrugged, not saying anything.

He sat down again next to her. His thigh brushed against hers and she shifted away.

“I’m not going to kill you,” he said in exasperation. She could almost hear him roll his eyes.

“But you don’t trust me.”

“No. I’ve never seen you interact with Lancelot before nor has he mentioned you before. Why is that?”

“Maybe you're just not very observant.” It was probably the height of foolishness to provoke him this way, but there was something about the prince that got under her skin.

“And maybe you're lying.” He stretched his legs out. “Attack is the best form of defence. Good strategy.”

Gwen smiled before she realised what she was doing. “What do you think I’ll get from this lie?”

Arthur ignored her question. “I don’t like liars.”

“I don’t need you to like me,” retorted Gwen immediately.

He turned to face her and despite the urge to lean away from him, Gwen kept still, tilting her head up so she could look him directly in the eyes, rules be damned. His breath fanned against her cheek, a sign of just how close he was to her. “If I find out that you are putting the safety of my knights or my kingdom in jeopardy, I will -”

“You will?” Gwen whispered.

Despite the dim surroundings in the cave, Gwen saw Arthur’s gaze drop to her lips, where it lingered for a moment, before it went back up to her eyes. She swallowed, unnerved both by the change in the look in Arthur’s eyes and the way her own heart had decided to speed up.

“Hello?”

Gwen jerked back, while Arthur scrambled to his feet, his hand already at his sword. “Gwaine?”

“Oh good. Thought you might have let the bandits kidnap you. Is Gwen with you?”

“She is,” said Arthur as he offered her his hand. “We’re fine.”

Gritting her teeth, Gwen pushed herself up onto her feet. Pain shot through her leg but it was worth not accepting Arthur’s help. But just as she stood up, she stumbled and Arthur’s outstretched hand reached for her, grasping her waist while his other hand grabbed her elbow. Her chest slammed into his, and she gripped his shoulders. Under her hands, he seemed solid and strong and Gwen hated that she noticed that. Lancelot, she told herself, would be just as well-built.

“Stubborn woman.” Arthur’s voice rasped in her ear.

“Getting to know each other, I see.” Amusement tinged Gwaine’s voice as he approached them.

They jumped apart, and Gwen wobbled again. She steadied herself by leaning against the cave wall.

“She’s injured,” said Arthur coldly, stepping even further from her. “Did you get our horses?”

“I found Llamrei but Gwen’s horse must have been spooked and escaped. Merlin is outside keeping watch. Gwen can ride with me.”

“I’m sure she would rather ride with Merlin. But you can help her out of the cave.” With those words, Arthur stalked out.

Gwaine offered her his arm and this time, Gwen took it, leaning against him as they slowly made their way out.

The smile that broke across Merlin’s face raised Gwen’s spirits and she let go of Gwaine’s arm so that Merlin could sweep her into a hug. “Don’t do this again! I’m used to Arthur’s dangerous shenanigans but not yours.”

Feeling lighter than she had since being grazed by the arrow, Gwen laughed and squeezed Merlin. “I’m glad you came back.”

“We travelled halfway back to Camelot when we realised both you and Arthur were missing,” said Merlin later, after he’d tucked her in front of him of his horse. “Gwaine was pretty certain that Arthur could take care of himself, but I thought it would be best to turn back. Looks like Gwaine was right.”

Back in Camelot, Gaius tended to her calf, before insisting that she take a few days of bed rest. She hobbled to Lancelot’s room after that, feeling obliged as his fake betrothed to look in on him. Gaius had said that there had been no change in Lancelot’s situation and sure enough, he still lay there on the bed. Slowly, she eased herself into the chair next to the bed, trying to ignore the throbbing in her calf. Colour had returned to his face and he appeared to be breathing well, but he remained unconscious, not responding to her recounting of the day’s adventure.

“For some reason, Prince Arthur thinks I’m lying about us - which I am - but he seems to think that there’s some nefarious scheming behind it all.” Gwen shook her head as she remembered his harsh warning. “It’s just all a horrible misunderstanding, isn’t it?”

Lancelot continued to breathe, his chest rising and falling regularly. Gwen watched him, just lying there, her eyes drinking in his form. She’d been doing that every evening the past four nights, watching him, examining the finer details of his face - that tiny scar under his nose, the direction in which his hair curled, the slight bump on his left ear. But this evening, as she looked at him, all her mind would see was the prince’s blue eyes.

“How is he?”

As if her imagination had conjured him up, Arthur stood in the doorway. Gwen stood slowly, and curtsied. “My lord. Lancelot is still the same as yesterday.”

He nodded and Gwen had the feeling that he wasn’t actually there to check in on Lancelot. After a moment, during which he stared at her and Gwen stared back at him. Then, he walked into the room. This time, instead of sitting on the other side of Lancelot’s bed, he walked around and dragged a chair next to hers. He sat, then gestured for her to sit.

“Entertain me as we sit vigil over Lancelot.”

“You don’t have to be here. I’ll look after him.”

Gwen couldn’t be sure but she thought he smiled at her words. She relaxed a little, sinking further into the chair.

“How did you meet Lancelot? Knights and maidservants rarely mix.”

“Don’t be foolish. Knights and other royals mix with the servants all the time. I’m sure you’ve mixed with your own fair share of servants.”

“But they don’t marry them.”

“Few are as honourable as Lancelot.”

Arthur just made a noise in his throat. It was a while later that he asked, “How did you meet him?”

“He, um, he patrols near my house in the evenings. We met, and things went from there.”

“And yet, no one from his patrols has ever mentioned you.”

“I did not realise the knights love gossip as much as the servants,” said Gwen.

This time, Gwen was certain the prince was smiling. “We are all human, aren’t we?”

A scoff escaped her and she quickly bit down on her lower lip, wishing Arthur had not heard it.

“You disagree?”

“No, my lord.”

“Tell me. I am very interested in your views.”

She shook her head. “I am just a maidservant. My views are unimportant.”

“Guinevere -”

“You may say that everyone is human but there are some humans who matter more than others. You, for example. Whereas, had I not been betrothed to Lancelot, I would have been invisible to you.”

“You’re not invisible to me anymore,” said Arthur. Then, he stood abruptly. “I have duties to attend to.”

Gwen watched as the prince stalked out of the room, half-suspecting what she’d said had upset him. He deserved to hear the truth, she thought in annoyance as she tried to ignore how her heart had sped up when he’d said she wasn’t invisible to him.

* * *

 

Arthur dragged a hand over his face as he left Lancelot’s chambers. What was he doing? Flirting with Guinevere? Just because he couldn’t stop thinking of her ankles? He didn’t have enough fingers to count the number of ways that was completely inappropriate - not least because she was either betrothed to his best knight or working for Hengist.

Night had enveloped the whole town in darkness, punctuated only by flickering torches. Alone, on the training grounds, Arthur practised. He liked the solitude - it was the only time when he felt like himself - not a prince, not the leader of the Camelot knights, not his father’s son. As he moved his feet and swung his sword, he let his mind wander. Usually, he’d imagine being a farmer, living in a cottage far from the main town, where he didn’t have to worry about bandits incursions or his father’s obsession with the evils of magic or his people’s constant demands. But for some reason, in his mind tonight, he wasn’t thinking about being a farmer or any of the other jobs he sometimes gave himself.

Something made Arthur look up and his eyes landed on a figure walking slowly down the main castle steps. The figure was too far away for him to make out the features, but he knew who it was. That the figure was limping was confirmation. Sliding his sword back into its sheath, Arthur walked towards the courtyard, towards the figure.

“You shouldn’t be walking,” said Arthur when she finally stopped in front of him.

“Then, how would I get back to my home?”

“I’ll walk with you.”

She frowned. “That would be highly inappropriate, my lord.”

“Escorting my best knight’s future wife back to her home when she’s injured? It’s entirely appropriate. Take my arm.”

Arthur didn’t think that she would actually do as he asked, but after a moment’s hesitation she did, leaning her weight against him. How much pain must she have been in? Stubborn woman.

“You’re a bossy one,” she muttered.

He should have known better than to expect gratitude from her. “Comes with the job.”

They walked towards her home in silence. He opened his mouth several times, but he didn’t know what to say or even what he wanted to know. So in the end, he said nothing. She looked straight ahead, clearly unwilling to speak with him either,

“This is my home.”

“It’s a smithy,” he said, the first thing that popped into his head.

She shrugged, moving away from him. “My father was a blacksmith.”

That was another of those jobs he’d thought about. “Sometimes I think about what it is like to be a blacksmith. Must have been nice.”

He must have said something wrong, because even though her body was no longer leaning against his, he could sense her tense up. Then, despite her injury, she whirled to face him and jabbed him in the shoulder.

“Nice? If you consider having just enough to survive nice. If you consider trying to earn a little more and being executed for it by a cruel king nice.”

“Gwen.”

“Leave me alone.”

She turned sharply again, but her injury made her slow and clumsy, so Arthur was able to grab her arm. She winced and he loosened his hold.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know -”

“Of course you didn’t know. My father was just another one of the many your father killed because of sorcery with no evidence.” Her voice broke, and she dipped her head, burying it in her hands.

Part of him urged him to leave - this was getting messy and Arthur never dealt well with emotions. But he listened to the other part of him, reached for Gwen and pulled her into a hug. For a moment, she remained stiff. Then, she relented, sinking into him, her face pressed into his shoulder. She trembled as she sobbed, and Arthur tightened his hold.

His father had executed many people he accused of sorcery and Gwen was right. Arthur had no recollection of which one was Gwen’s father and what exactly had led to the accusation of sorcery.

When she stopped sobbing, she eased herself from his hold, swiping at her cheeks with the back of her hands. “I’m sorry. I know you had nothing to do with it.”

“My father - he - he really believes magic is evil.”

She sniffed. “My father was not using magic - he didn’t know the man who had hired him was a magic user.”

“I’m sorry. I wish - your father must have been a good man.” The words just tumbled out of his mouth, empty, meaningless words that would never make up for the injustice his father had committed.

She nodded. “He was. He was a great father.”

“What about your mother? Does she run the smithy now?”

“No, my mother - she died when I was young. She got sick and then, she stopped fighting the illness and died.” Gwen’s tone was matter-of-fact, but her hands clutched at her skirt.

“So it was just you and your father.” Arthur was still suspicious of her sudden betrothal to Lancelot - that was why he was prodding her with these questions.

“Me, my father and my brother, Elyan.”

“Does your brother run the smithy?”

She shook her head and a wry smile twisted her lips. “He’s run off. Needs freedom or something. Didn’t even return when our father died.”

“I’m sorry. My mother died while giving birth to me,” said Arthur, unsure why he was telling her this. He rarely spoke about it, the thought of his mother’s death often bringing with it the memory of his father, staring out of the window and saying, in the coldest voice, that Arthur was the reason Ygraine was no longer alive. They had been fighting - over what, Arthur no longer remembered - and despite his father’s attempt at an apology, Arthur never forgot those words.

“It’s not your fault,” said Gwen immediately. “Childbirth is always a risk - so many things can go wrong. But it’s never the baby’s fault.”

The wind started to pick up and Gwen shivered. Arthur also realised that she’d been standing on her injured leg for far too long. “Come, we should go inside.”

Again, she hesitated, before pressing her lips together and opening the door to her small house. He stepped in behind her, then closed the door. His chambers were larger than her house. A bed was placed at the back of the room and the front had a small stove, a cupboard and a table with some chairs. He nudged her forward until she sat on a chair.

A half-used candle stood on her table and Arthur picked up the tinderbox next to it. He fumbled with the flint, until he heard Gwen laugh quietly. Her hands covered his and she took the flint and steel from him. Deftly, she lit the candle, tucked the everything back into the tinderbox and put it aside.

“I guess you don’t light fires often.”

“No,” he said as he sat down on chair next to hers. “Thank you.”

Surprise widened her eyes. “For? Lighting the fire?”

“For saying it’s not my fault.” He reached out and covered her hand with his. “I don’t know if I believe it, but it’s good to hear.”

“You should believe it,” said Gwen. “Whoever said it was your fault was wrong.”

Arthur smiled. “I’ve noticed that he’s been wrong pretty often. Do you remember much about your mother?”

“Some. But I forget more and more as the years pass. Father didn’t like talking about her much - too much pain, I suppose.”

“Tell me.”

“Why?” she asked.

He didn’t know why either. “Please?”

Her eyes studied him for a moment, then she spoke, quietly at first. Her name was Mary and Gwen spoke about how she worked as a maidservant for one of the royal families in the area. In the mornings, she would spend time with Gwen, either playing or telling her stories, before she left for work. In the evenings, the whole family would sit around the table for dinner and they would talk.

Gwen’s face was a kaleidoscope of emotions, shifting from affection to joy to grief. By the time she stopped speaking, he was still holding her hand, this time, her fingers were tangled with his. He reached over with his other hand, brushing away the silent tears that had fallen as she spoke about finding her mother dead and continued as she spoke about Elyan.

With only a candle burning, the shadows flickering across the walls and their faces, the two of them were ensconced in an intimate bubble. Arthur liked the way she talked - the honesty in her emotions.

“I always wondered if it was better to have not known my mother at all. This way, I don’t miss anything.”

She smiled at him, a real smile this time, and something swelled in his chest. “Perhaps, but I wouldn’t give up the time with my mother for that.”

“My father won’t talk about my mother. He even removed all the portraits of her. Gaius says I have her hair and her eyes, but he doesn’t say much else.” He shook his head. “It’s not like I can ask the council. People like us, we don’t talk about such things.”

“You can -” Arthur didn’t know what she was going to say because she abruptly yanked her hand from his, and just like that the bubble burst. She swallowed. “Thank you for walking me home. It’s getting very late and -”

With whatever strange spell broken, Arthur realised just how inappropriate it had been. He looked at her, the exhaustion in her face, and he stood. He wanted to thank her for her openness. He wanted to demand that she tell him the truth about her and Lancelot. He wanted to find her brother for her.

“Take the day off tomorrow,” he said instead.

“Good night, my lord.”

“Good night.”

* * *

 

Light flooded the room and his covers were pulled off him unceremoniously. Flinging an arm out, Arthur felt for a pillow which he immediately used to cover his face. He’d been dreaming of a woman with soft curves and kind eyes, and Merlin had, unsurprisingly, completely ruined it.

“Arthur!”

“Go away, Merlin.”

Merlin shook him, then when Arthur refused to respond, he took another pillow and hit his legs. “Get up!”

“No. Go away or I’ll send you to clean the stables.”

“Lancelot has awakened.”

“Merlin, I said - what?” He pushed the pillow away and sat up. Blinking, he tried to focus on Merlin. “What did you say?”

“Lancelot is up. Thought you might want to know that.”

“Does Gwen know?”

“I’m about to go get her,” said Merlin. “Now that you’re up. Surely you can dress yourself.”

Arthur rubbed his eyes. “Yes. Go let Gwen know.”

After Merlin rushed out of the room, Arthur sat at the side of his bed, resting his arms on his legs and burying his face in his hands. He should be happy that Lancelot was awake. Lancelot was his best knight. And now, he’ll find out just what Gwen was up to.

He squeezed his eyes shut and images of Gwen’s face in the candlelight danced behind his lids.

* * *

 

She arrived, limping still, at Lancelot’s chambers after he did. Again, her hands clutched at her skirts, giving away the fact that she was nervous. Was she nervous because her lies were about to unravel? Or was she nervous for the same reason his heart started racing the moment she arrived?

“Gwen,” said Merlin, taking her hand and leading her into the room.

Her head bowed, she allowed Merlin to pull her to the foot of the bed. Arthur saw her suck in a breath before she raised her head to look at Lancelot.

Lancelot smiled widely. “They tell me that you’re my betrothed.”

She blinked, confusion replacing the nervousness in her eyes. She looked around the room, until her eyes met Arthur’s. He clenched his fists, digging his nails into his flesh, reminding himself that whatever happened the night before, he had no right to comfort her.

“Lancelot doesn’t remember a lot of the past few months,” said Gaius. “But I hope this will be temporary.”

“I’m sorry,” said Lancelot and Gwen broke eye-contact with Arthur, dragging her gaze back to Lancelot. “The knights tell me that you’ve been tending to me the past few days. I’m honoured to have such a caring betrothed.”

“We should give them some time together,” said Gaius. “I’ll return this afternoon to check on Lancelot. Perhaps Gwen will be able to jog his memories. An emotional bond is often the best.”

Gwen still looked shocked and confused, but she nodded. “Can Merlin stay with me? For a while?”

“Of course I will,” said Merlin.

Gwaine patted Arthur on the shoulder once they left the room. “Glad to know Lancelot is fine. He’s lucky to have Gwen. If it had been me, I dread to think who they would ask to help get my memories back.”

“Probably the barmaid,” said Leon with a laugh. “You spend enough time there.”

The knights continued to laugh and joke as they walked down the corridors, clearly relieved that Lancelot was on his way to recovery. Arthur was glad that Lancelot was awake too.

He was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To all of you who have been reading, thank you so much.


	4. Chapter 4

Gwen smiled at Lancelot, then looked at Merlin, whose smile looked just as fake as hers felt. She was well aware that Lancelot was watching her.

“I’m fine, Gwen.” His voice was quiet and gentle.

She looked at Lancelot again. He tilted his head, gesturing for her to go to him. A quick glance at Merlin, who nodded slightly, and she went to sit down on the chair next to Lancelot’s bed. It was where she’d sat comfortably plenty of times since his accident, reading or embroidering, but now, no amount of shifting gave her any comfort.

Especially with Lancelot’s gaze heavy on her.

“I’m sorry,” said Lancelot. He frowned a little. “You must have been worried about me.”

He was the one who had been unconscious, the one who had no memory, and yet he was expressing concern over her. Another layer of guilt weighed on her.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. How are you feeling?”

Lancelot’s smile was warm and directed solely at her. It was everything she had imagined in the months past. “Sore mostly. Gaius says the head wound has healed nicely.”

“I’m glad. I was so worried.” Memories of the moment she’d seen him fall and all the blood returned. She remembered the sheer panic and worry that he had suffered a serious injury, then the desperate need to find out how he was doing after he was whisked away.

“I must say that I've very good taste in wives.”

Heat rose in her cheeks and a bout of shyness filled her. She looked down at her lap where her hands lay clasped. This was everything she’d fantasised of - Lancelot looking at her with tenderness, the two of them having a personal conversation - and yet, it was completely wrong. She was sitting here, perpetuating a lie to a severely hurt man.

“What’s wrong?” asked Lancelot. “Have I said something wrong?”

Gwen looked up and her heart ached at the distress on his face. “No, of course not. I was just worried about your memory loss. Is there anything you remember?”

“I don’t really know. I definitely do not remember how I got hurt. I remember being knighted by Prince Arthur, a few of the missions I’ve been on since -”

“Do you remember the one in which we were trapped in a ruined castle, surrounded by wyverns overnight? When we thought we might die?”

Lancelot, and Gwen, looked up at Merlin, who hovered at the foot of the bed. There was something in Merlin’s eyes, a look that Gwen had never seen before.

“You never told me about that,” said Gwen. “Sounds like quite an adventure.”

Merlin ignored her, his eyes focused on Lancelot. “Do you remember that?”

“No. Although, as Gwen says, it does sound like quite an adventure.”

“It was,” said Merlin, his voice tight. “It was quite the adventure.”

“You should tell me about it,” said Lancelot.

“Yes,” said Gwen. “I would love to hear -”

“No. It’s not important.”

An awkward silence fell after that. There was visible tension in Merlin and Gwen had no idea what to say to either man. For all the elaborate fantasies that she had had about meeting and talking to Lancelot, none of them even came close to this. She looked down at her lap, smoothing out the non-existent creases as she tried to sort out the thoughts in her head. Guilt warred with the fear of her lie being discovered, and the niggling whispers that this was her chance to get to know Lancelot better.

“Gwen?”

Lancelot’s confused tone dragged her from her thoughts and tugged at Gwen’s heart. Looking up, she smiled at Lancelot who smiled back shakily, his eyes brimming with concern and worry. Guilt won the battle as she chided herself for selfishly only thinking about herself.

“I’m sorry I don’t remember you,” he said quietly, reaching a hand out. Instinctively, Gwen took it. His fingers closed around her hand, enclosing it in warmth. Gwen’s heart stumbled as she digested the fact that Lancelot, the man she’d been dreaming of for so long, was holding her hand.

“It’s not your fault,” said Gwen, her eyes unable to look away from their joined hands. His hold was firm yet gentle, everything that she had imagined when she lay in the dark in her bed.

Lancelot ran his thumb across her hand. “But we have each other. The physician thinks that my memory will return if I go back to my usual routines. We’ll spend time together and I’m sure that it will all come back to me. I cannot wait to get to know you better.”

Merlin stood suddenly, just as Lancelot pulled her hand to his lips, the chair dragging sharply against floor. “I just remembered that I have a thing to do.”

“Merlin -”

Visibly startled, Lancelot looked up at Merlin. “Thank you, Merlin, for being here for me too.”

At the door, Merlin hesitated for a moment. But all he did was nod before disappearing.

Lancelot frowned and stared at the doorway. “Did I do something wrong?”

“He’s probably just busy. Prince Arthur works him hard.”

“When I first woke, he was by my bed, sitting where you are now. He has been here ever since, actually. I suppose we must have been good friends.”

“Yes,” said Gwen. “Merlin is a very good friend.”

“I am a very lucky man, to have you and Merlin. And of course, the knights. And Prince Arthur.” Lancelot shook his head and focused his attention back to her. “Tell me about yourself. I want to know about the woman I’m going to marry.”

Had it just been a few hours before that Arthur had asked her a similar question? She had spilled her heart out about her mother and her childhood to someone she barely new and wasn’t sure she even liked. Perhaps it had been the vulnerability she’d sensed in Arthur when he’d shared that nugget about his mother - as if the two of them shared a secret. But now, as the man she loved asked her to talk about herself, she was at a complete loss for words.

“I work as Lady Morgana’s maid. Sometimes, I help Gaius, the physician and other times, the kitchens.”

“You’re a maid.”

Gwen straightened in the chair. “I am.”

His hesitation was barely noticeable, but then he flashed his warm smile at her again. “A beautiful maid.”

Once again, she felt herself flush and her heart swelled.

He asked a few more questions about her - where she lived, how long she had worked for the castle and so on. Those were the easy questions - she didn’t have to lie. He didn’t ask about her mother or her brother, and she didn’t share.

“How did we meet? Did I see you across the training field and fall in love?” He smiled wistfully. “I wish I could remember. It must have been a life-changing moment.”

The difficult questions. “We, uh, met when you patrolled near my house.”

“And I spoke to you? Were you as enamoured with me as I was with you?”

She stilled for a moment, then just nodded, reluctant to add more lies to the mess she’d already found herself in. Then, there was the fact that she didn’t think filling Lancelot’s head with false memories was going to be helpful for either of them. Gently, she eased her hand out from Lancelot’s hold, bringing it to her lap.

Lancelot smiled. “What were you doing when I saw you?”

“I can’t remember really. Usually, when you patrol, I’m sweeping outside my house.” She didn’t add that she did that because she wanted to catch a glimpse of him. “How are you feeling? You really should rest.”

He chuckled at that. “I spent the last four days sleeping. I think I’ve had enough rest.”

“That’s not the same,” said Gwen, forcing out a laugh. “You really should -”

Gwen had never been so happy to hear a door open. When Gaius asked if he could check on Lancelot, she took the chance to make her escape. Once out of the room, she quickly went off to look for Lady Morgana. Work would keep her mind off this whole mess, and give her an excuse to avoid Lancelot, at least for the time being. Avoid Lancelot - she never thought she would want to do this.

Informed that Lady Morgana was out riding, Gwen busied herself getting Lady Morgana’s chambers ready for bed. The maid who had taken over her duties for her had done a decent job, but she didn’t know that Lady Morgana liked flowers on her dresser and her pillows arranged in a particular manner. Limping slightly, her calf still throbbing, Gwen moved the pillows around, fluffing them before placing them down on the bed.

“Gwen.”

She dropped the pillow she was holding, and spun around. Pain shot through her calf and she sucked in a breath.

“Oh Merlin!”

His eyes dropped to her calf and he frowned. “How’s your injury?”

“Healing,” said Gwen.

“I thought Sefa has been covering your work. You shouldn’t be walking around.”

“I know. But sitting around is only going to make me worry more.” She moved to the door and shut it. Lady Morgana shouldn’t be back anytime soon and the chambers would give her and Merlin some privacy. “Merlin,” she said, turning to face him, “I don’t know what to do. He wasn’t supposed to wake up without his memory.”

“That wasn’t really the plan,” said Merlin with a sigh. He plopped himself on the bed, uncaring that it had already been made. Since he’d already messed up the bed, Gwen settled down next to him. With her weight off her foot, some of the tension in her body eased and she let out a breath. Then, she squeezed her eyes shut.

“He wanted to know about me and him. What do I do? Do I lie? What if he never gets his memories back?”

“I don’t know either, Gwen,” said Merlin.

“You said that he is a good man. If we explain the situation to him, he’ll help us, won’t he?” She blew out a breath, trying to slow her racing heart.

“He doesn’t have his memories. Even if we told him the truth, it wouldn’t change anything. Imagine how bad it would look if he suddenly broke up with you before he regained his memories.”

“And it would be my fault,” she said quietly.

Gwen felt Merlin slide an arm around her shoulders. She leaned into him. “Let’s give it a week. If he still doesn’t remember after that, we will come up with another plan.”

A week sounded like an eternity to Gwen but there were few good choices left for her. So she agreed. Merlin squeezed her shoulders and for some reason, she had the feeling that he was as unhappy with this turn of events as she was.

 

* * *

 

Arthur traced the grain of the wood on the table, feeling its roughness under his finger. Leon was reciting the weekly numbers - how much grain there was in the stores, how many raids there had been and so on. Normally, Arthur was able to keep up with the numbers, working out in his head what these numbers said about the state of Camelot. But today, as he sat at his usual place, on the right of his father, he found his mind wandering to Lancelot.

He was happy that Lancelot was awake. Of course he was. Lancelot was fast becoming his best knight, second only to him. It was the fact that Lancelot had awoken without his memory that troubled Arthur. No one could give him a proper answer about what this meant for Lancelot. And he was acutely aware that Gwen was, at this moment, most likely spending time alone with Lancelot. She could be feeding Lancelot lies about their relationship, gaining his trust so as to further whatever nefarious plans she had up her skirts. Lancelot would believe her - he could see it in Lancelot’s eyes the moment she had stepped into the room. He was open to being charmed by Gwen. Arthur supposed that Gwen could probably be charming if she wanted to, although she had been nothing but prickly and cool towards him.

“Arthur?”

“Yes, father.” He looked up to see everyone’s eyes on him.

“As I was saying, I received a message from Caerleon requesting our assistance. It seems that Hengist has been making raids into their border villages.”

“Of course,” said Arthur. “So it is true he has been hiding in Cenred’s lands. Now he’s using it as a base to attack Caerleon. We can gather a -”

Uther shook his head and raised a hand, silencing Arthur. “I’ve made my position clear. We will not interfere at such an early stage. However, I do want eyes and ears in the vicinity. At the right moment -”

“By that, you mean when the kingdom is on the verge of defeat?”

“- we will step in. Rescue the kingdom.” Uther shot Arthur a look, but ignored his interruption. “Arthur, I’ll leave it to you to assign men to watch the developments in the area.”

“If we don’t step in now, people are going to die -”

Uther stood. “That is all for today. Sir Leon, come with me and I’ll give you an official reply to QUeen Annis.”

Arthur stayed at the table as the council and knights filed out. A hand landed on his shoulder and he looked up at Gwaine.

“We could make a trip to Caerleon, have a look at the situation there. Make some decisions.”

“My father would not approve.” Arthur pushed his chair back and stood. “Although, why don’t you round up some knights and be my father’s ‘eyes and ears’?”

The two men walked out of the council room and into the corridors. Arthur turned to Gwaine. “And in the meantime, if you see an opportunity for - well - you let me know.”

Gwaine smirked. “Yes, your highness. Hopefully Lancelot will be ready to ride soon. We could use him.”

“Make sure this is kept between us,” said Arthur.

“You know how trustworthy I am.” Another Gwaine smirk, and then he walked off.

Arthur leaned against the cold stone wall for a moment. Then, he made his way to the training grounds. Tension was building in him - his father, Gwen, Lancelot - and the only place that he knew he could relieve his tension was there.

Lancelot’s chambers was on the way to the training grounds, and it was only right that Arthur pay him a visit. Hoping that Gwen wouldn’t be there, he knocked on the door.

Merlin opened the door.

“Aren’t you supposed to be polishing my armour?”

“Right,” said Merlin. “I’ll get to that now.”

“Wait. How is Lancelot?”

The shift in Merlin’s expression was tiny, but Arthur caught the look of stress and grief in his eyes.

“Merlin -”

Merlin took a step away from Arthur. “He’s looking good. Memory is still not back.”

Arthur looked towards the bed, and when he looked back, Merlin was gone. Inwardly, he sighed. As if his own life wasn’t complicated enough. Now, he had a brooding manservant to worry about. But first, to see how Lancelot was and if he could shed some light on the mystery of Gwen. He wouldn’t mention Gwen to Lancelot. He would wait for Lancelot to talk about her.

“My lord.”

Lancelot was, at least, sounding well. His voice was strong and he was sitting up in his bed. Earlier, he’d been pale and looked somewhat disorientated, but clearly he was recovering well.

“You look good for a man who has been unconscious for several days.”

Smiling, Lancelot nodded. “I’ve had people take really good care of me. Merlin was just here with a pile of food from the kitchens.”

Arthur glanced at the almost empty tray next to the table. “You have a good appetite.”

“I’m famished. Must be the result of not eating for the past few days.”

“Must be,” said Arthur. “How is your memory?”

“Merlin says I’ve lost the past few months. I have the occasional moments when I remember something, but it hasn’t been very helpful. I remember fighting alongside you. I think it was wyverns.”

“Wyverns. I remember that - Gwaine’s fault as usual, disturbing the nest.”

“I also remember him falling into mud?”

“Too many incidents of that sort,” laughed Arthur.

“He dropped by earlier, with Leon and Percy. It was nice to see them.”

“And Gwen?” The words just came out from his mouth.

Arthur didn’t particularly like the look of tenderness that crossed Lancelot’s face. Because it was proof that in less than a day, Gwen had managed to endear herself to Lancelot. In a way, it was good that Lancelot did not have his memories. Gwen wouldn’t be able to gleam anything from him.

“Gwen? I wish she wouldn’t work so hard,” sighed Lancelot. “I only managed to spend a short time with her this morning. I think she’s injured. I thought I saw her limping. I meant to ask Merlin about it, but it slipped my mind.”

“She got hit by an arrow.”

Lancelot’s eyes widened. “An arrow? What happened?”

Quickly, Arthur gave Lancelot a rundown of what had happened, judiciously leaving out certain details.

“She needs to learn to defend herself.”

Arthur frowned. “What?”

“Gwen needs to learn to defend herself,” repeated Lancelot. “I would teach her myself but -” He waved a hand at himself. “- I’m not exactly in the right condition.”

“I’m sure it can wait.”

Lancelot nodded. “I’m lucky to have her.”

“She seems like a nice girl. It’s funny how you never mentioned her before.”

“Never? That’s strange. Maybe she’s shy,” said Lancelot. “Maybe it’s because she’s worried that she’s just a maidservant.”

“That surprised me too - knights and maidservants - not a common pairing.”

Immediately, Lancelot’s voice cooled. “Do you disapprove?”

“No.”

“Then why all the questions?”

Arthur shrugged. “I was taken aback by the announcement of your engagement.”

“Gwen is a wonderful woman,” said Lancelot. “I’m sure she is. Gaius says that I can return to light training soon. Maybe it’ll help me regain my memories - going back to my routine.”

Accepting the change in topic, Arthur chatted a while more with Lancelot, before making his way to the training grounds, more unanswered questions in his head.

 

* * *

 

He lingered in the courtyard as the sun set, casting a orange hue over the grey stones. Most of the people had already returned home, but Arthur found himself looking out for one particular figure. He was pretty sure that she hadn’t gone home yet. Despite Gaius’s orders that she rest, Gwen, Arthur was realising, was a stubborn one.

As the weather cooled, Arthur paced the courtyard, one eye on the castle steps. He had decided that since Lancelot had completely swallowed Gwen’s story, it was up to him to find out the truth. With the Hengist situation looking like it was about to get worse, there was no way Arthur was going to take any chances that Gwen might be a spy for Hengist. And the best way to keep an eye on her was to get closer to Gwen.

“Are you spying on me now?”

Gwen clipped words made Arthur spin around. Face to face with her, he could see the annoyance in her eyes and the tension in her jaw. Most disturbingly was the warmth that spread out in his stomach at the sight of her.

“Should you be walking this much?”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Are you here to assist me home?”

“Since Lancelot can’t, I thought it was only right that I ensure you get home safely.”

He offered her an arm, but she continued to stand there, staring at him. “Last night was a mistake. We aren’t friends.”

“If you’re marrying my best knight, we should be trying to get along.”

She pressed her lips together.

He offered her his arm again. And again, she ignored it.

“Do you make it a point to get to know all your knight’s wives?”

“The older knights - their wives mothered me, especially since I didn’t have a mother. And my father, well, he had more important matters to see to.” He smiled at the memories Gwen’s question evoked. “They were good people.”

“And your knights now?”

“Come on,” said Arthur. “I’ll tell you as I walk you back.”

Finally, Gwen took his arm, her weight once again on him. They walked slowly towards her home and he told her about Leon’s wife. He then told her of Gwaine’s various conquests. When she laughed, he could feel her body vibrate against his. It made him tell her more amusing anecdotes.

“Thank you, my lord.” She pulled away from him.

His first thought was that he missed her warmth and softness, and he hated that he felt that way. When he spoke, his voice was rough and low. “Have you heard of Hengist?”

Her hand on the door handle, she paused. “Hengist? No. I don’t remember that name.”

There was hesitation in her voice and that was enough to remind Arthur that she wasn’t someone he should trust.

“Who is he?”

“A bandit who has been making trouble at the borders.”

A frown creased her forehead. “Why do you think I would know him?”

“I wondered if there were rumours.”

She shook her head. “Not that I’ve heard. Are the knights going to look for him?”

“No,” said Arthur, his suspicion growing at her question. “My father feels that he is not worth the effort.” A small lie that might lower Hengist’s defenses.

“If he’s terrorising the border villages, then you should do something about it.” Her hand fell from the door and she turned to face him. “Isn’t the security of these villages your responsibility?”

“Resources are finite,” said Arthur stiffly, echoing his father’s words as Gwen echoed his thoughts. It was a role reversal that made him uncomfortable. “We can’t do everything.”

“Lancelot wouldn’t agree.”

“Lancelot would do whatever I say,” snapped Arthur.

She turned back to face the door. “I’m sure you know best.”

Her dismissive words got under his skin, and his hands curled into fists. “And, being a maidservant, you don’t.”

The door was being pushed open, creaking in the silent night. But at his words, it stopped. It felt like the gentle breeze too had stopped.

“In future, you shouldn’t fraternize with the servants, my lord. It’s very unbecoming.”

“Gwen -”

She limped into her house and slammed the door.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

She tapped her foot, stopping when Lady Hilda sent her a withering look. Gwen couldn’t imagine how anyone who tutted so much and had a permanent frown on her face could be considered motherly. Her lips pressed together, Lady Hilda finally looked away, raised her gloved hands and clapped. Gwen followed suit, although her hands were not gloved and as a result, her clapping was far less delicate, earning more withering looks from Lady Hilda and her friend.

Her claps managed to attract Lancelot’s attention, who raised his sword and smiled at her. Instinctively, she returned the smile, but her eyes drifted to the man next to Lancelot. He lounged against the weapons rack, casually twirling his sword, looking as if everything was beneath him. Sweat stained his tunic, and his hair was mussed, plastered to his head. He turned his head suddenly, their gazes tangling. The smirk that crossed his face made her roll her eyes at him. His smirk only grew larger.

It was boring. Soul-suckingly boring. And yet, Lady Hilda and the entourage of other ladies seemed to take great joy in sitting out in the sun, watching the knights and clapping their gloved hands together.

Gwen had tried to escape, pleading the need to complete her many duties, but it had been the prince who waved his hands, and told Martha, the head of the servants in the castle, to find someone to cover her duties.

“Morgana wouldn’t even notice,” Arthur had said. “She’s run off on one of her mysterious trips again.”

“There’s no reason -”

There had been a glint in Arthur’s eyes when he said, “There are many reasons. Many of the ladies enjoy watching the knights train.”

Lancelot had stepped in then, the gentleman that he was, arguing that he didn’t want to force Gwen to do anything she didn’t want to. Warmth and affection flooded her at his words and she smiled at Lancelot. He was truly a good man.

“If you feel that it is far too intimidating to be at training, then -” said Arthur, a challenge in his tone.

And never one to back down, especially when it came to arrogant, rude princes, Gwen ended up sitting at the edge of the training grounds, next to a group of ladies who were quite clearly mortified by her presence, bored to tears.

She swung her legs and looked up at the clear sky and the clouds that drifted lazily by. In her mind, she imagined them as animals, a game she used to play with her brother. Gwen hadn’t heard from him for a long time. The last had been a letter that she’d received from a travelling merchant. She knew he was making a living as a mercenary, and she hoped that he hadn’t gotten himself mixed up with that bandit that Arthur had mentioned before.

“Hey.”

Gwen looked up into the gentle gaze of Lancelot. “Is training over?”

“For me, it is. I don’t have all my strength or stamina back yet. Also, I noticed that you seemed rather disinterested.”

Heat crept into her face. “I’m sorry.”

“I imagine it can’t be that fun to watch a group of knights going through drills. Merlin invited me for lunch. Would you like to join us?”

“That sounds lovely,” said Gwen. “Although, I hope Merlin isn’t cooking.”

Lancelot laughed and offered her his hand. With her hand in his, they walked back to the castle, to Lancelot’s chambers. Holding Lancelot’s hand was pleasant. His grip was gentle and she liked the feel of his skin against her. Gwen pushed aside the feeling of guilt and fear that churned in her stomach every time she interacted with Lancelot. Merlin said to give it one more week, and then she would confess. Lancelot, as she’d known, was a good man. Hopefully, that would minimise the whatever consequences she was about to face for her lie.

When the two of them entered Lancelot’s chambers, the large smile that had been on Merlin’s face when he first looked up quickly faded.

“Gwen.”

“Merlin.” She dropped Lancelot’s hand and smiled.

“I invited her to join us for lunch,” said Lancelot.

“Of course. Just give me a moment to lay out an extra plate.” He turned away and busied himself with the table.

“If it’s too much trouble -” Something in Merlin’s manner hinted that he was unhappy that she’d turned up. She tried to tamp down the hurt and the urge to excuse herself immediately.

This time, when he turned back to look at them, he was smiling, widely enough to ease the hurt. “I’m sorry. I was just surprised. And I hope we have enough food.”

Lancelot pulled out a chair for Gwen. “My appetite isn’t great since the accident. I’m sure that there will be enough food.”

Despite the weird tension earlier, lunch was light-hearted and fun. Merlin had prepared Lancelot’s favourite food and Gwen learned that the two of them had a close friendship. At least, it seemed that way. Merlin made Lancelot laugh, a full, uncontrolled laugh that she hadn’t experienced before. There were moments that Gwen felt that she was intruding, but they were brief and either men would look at her, and invite her back into the conversation.

After a while, having neglected her duties for half a day, Gwen took her leave. If she was truly marrying Lancelot, then, perhaps it wouldn’t matter how the other servants felt about her missing work. But she wasn’t. She hurried down the corridors, as much as her still sort leg allowed, towards the kitchen, hoping to be able to help out with the after-lunch chores.

“In a rush?”

Strong hands on her shoulders stopped her from colliding into the prince. Yet, they didn’t prevent her from being so close to him that she could see the dusting of hair that peeked out from his tunic.

“Getting back to work, my lord.”

Warmth from his hands seeped through her dress, making her achingly aware of how his fingers felt against her. She shrugged out of his hold, thankful that he released her easily.

“What were you and Lancelot doing?”

“It is none of your business.”

“It is if you’re betraying Camelot.”

She forced herself to look into his eyes, and suddenly everything slotted into place. “You think that I work for Hengist. And that I’m pretending to be Lancelot’s betrothed so that I can spy for him.”

Arthur said nothing.

“You’re wrong,” she said. Childishly, she wanted to stamp on his foot, but she restrained herself. “Now, I would like to get back to work, unless you plan to chain me to you so I can’t run off and tell Hengist all your secrets.”

She made to push past Arthur, but he grabbed her arm, stopping her. “That is a brilliant idea. From now, your duties would be to serve me.”

“What about Merlin?” She yanked her arm from his hold, then folded them across her body.

“I’m sure that Gaius would be happy to have him for a few days.”

“It isn’t appropriate for me to serve you. I would not be able to prepare your baths, amongst other things.”

Arthur’s lips twitched. “Other things?”

“Whatever it is that manservants do,” said Gwen. She had no clue as to what other things manservants did, but Arthur’s amused look made her flush. “I would not be comfortable dressing you, for example.”

“Well,” huffed Arthur. “Contrary to whatever Merlin might have told you, I am perfectly capable of dressing myself. And Merlin will prepare my baths and do whatever duties you feel uncomfortable with. Surely, you can make my bed, deal with my laundry and polish my armour. And I’m pretty sure you’ll do a better job sharpening my sword than Merlin.”

“Merlin never gets the rhythm right when using the whetstone,” said Gwen.

“That’s because he has no sense of rhythm. Have you seen him dance?”

Gwen bit down on a smile, because she had, indeed, seen him dance before. She shook her head.

“Thank the Gods then,” said Arthur. “Seeing that skinny twig shake gave me nightmares.”

Laughter, despite her best efforts, bubbled out of Gwen. “It’s not that bad.”

“It is that bad.” He nodded solemnly, managing to only maintain that look for a moment before he too laughed.

As the laughter faded, Gwen found herself caught in his bright, blue gaze. Her stomach lurched and her heart both sped up and slowed down, thumping heavily against her ribcage. Why didn’t he look away? Break this strange spell between them?

Instead, he lifted his hand and touched her cheek gently. His fingers barely brushed against her skin but she felt it all the way down to her toes.

It was footsteps that made Arthur drop his hand. She watched his throat bob as he swallowed, then quickly looked away when the most inappropriate thoughts floated through her mind, thoughts that she’d never had about Lancelot.

“My armour and sword are in my room. You should get them cleaned up and sharpened.”

“Yes, my lord.”

And he turned sharply, walking away from her.

She shook her head. So much for keeping her close and under scrutiny. Not that she wanted to be under his scrutiny.

 

* * *

 

“What’s wrong with the tools in the Royal Smithy?”

Gwen had been so focussed on sharpening Arthur’s sword - a magnificent piece of workmanship - that she hadn’t heard him creep up on her. After cleaning up his armour, then tidying his room, Gwen had decided that she’d too much of the prince, took his sword and walked back to her home.

“I am more familiar with these tools.”

Arthur leaned against a wall. “Never thought there would be a difference. In fact, I thought the tools back at the castle would be better.”

“Good tools aren’t a substitute for skill.”

That seemed to amuse Arthur. He shifted, making himself more comfortable against the wall, clearly signalling that he was not about to leave anytime soon. “And I assume you have skill.”

“I do.” She turned her attention back to the whetstone and tried to regain her focus, difficult when she could practically feel Arthur’s eyes on her. Still, as she said, she had skill and she had experience, both of which made up for her lack of focus. The sound of the blade against the stone filled the air and for a while, that was enough. But once the sword was sharpened, the silence became uncomfortable.

She stood slowly. Her leg was feeling much better but a wrong step, and pain would shoot through her. “This is a beautiful sword.”

He took it from her, his fingers brushing against hers. “It has served me well.”

“I hope that I have done it justice.”

She expected him to test it, perhaps slice it through the air but he simply slid it into its sheath.

“What do you and Lancelot do together?”

“Do you plan to question me about Lancelot every time we meet?”

“Yes, but I suspect you won’t tell me much.”

“Do you go round telling everyone the details of your dalliances?”

“Dalliances? I don’t have the time for them,” said Arthur, his narrowed eyes suggesting that she’d annoyed him. Again.

Gwen sat down on a bench, telling her brain to stop thinking about what kind of dalliances a crown prince would have. “What keeps you so busy?”

“My father. The knights.” He sat down next to her, not close enough to touch her. Still, her skin prickled and that now-familiar feeling in her stomach started up again. His eyes met hers. “Hengist.”

“I thought he wasn’t worth your time.”

Arthur closed his eyes and tilted his head back, leaning it against the wall. When several minutes passed and he didn’t say anything, Gwen glanced over. His chest rose and fell, rose and fell. His tunic had ridden up, revealing a band of pale skin, a thin strip of hair that disappeared into the waistband of his trousers.

She swallowed, trying to wet her suddenly dry throat. She needed to think about something else.

“Your people should be worth your time.”

“My father doesn’t think so,” Arthur eventually said.

“What do you think?”

He turned his head so that he was looking at her. “I think that you’re the first person to ask me that.”

“That’s a little sad.”

His smile was wry. “You’d think that being crown prince means that people would want to know what you think.”

“So what do you think?”

“I think we owe our people protection, but it doesn’t matter what I think.” He sat up straight and rubbed a hand over his face. “Father is the one in charge here.”

“I’m not a spy for Hengist,” said Gwen quietly.

They stared at each other for a beat. When Arthur finally spoke, his voice was soft and a little rough. “I want to believe you.”

It was her turn to smile wryly. “I suppose that is progress.”

“What would you do? If you were me.”

“About Hengist?”

Arthur nodded. “And don’t say that you’re just a maidservant. I know you’re full of opinions.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but then caught the twitch of Arthur’s lips. “I supposed I have shared some opinions with you,” she said stiffly.

His shoulders bumped into hers and when she looked up at him, his smile was warm and almost affectionate. “Tell me what you would do.”

He seemed sincere, almost eager and Gwen felt flattered. As crown prince, it was a surprise that no one cared about his opinions. As a mere maidservant, Gwen never expected anyone to care about what she thought.

“The knights are loyal to you. Merlin is loyal to you. You can protect the border villages. Protect the villages and the people will tell you things.”

“Tell me things?”

“You learn a lot working in the tavern. Ale makes lips loose. You could learn something that helps you deal with Hengist.”

Amusement danced in his eyes. “And you work in the tavern here.”

“Sometimes.”

“What do you know?”

“I know that the crown prince is arrogant and controlled by his father.”

The slight smile faded and he pressed his lips together. He swallowed, then spoke. “Is that what the people think of me?”

“They don’t see the courageous knight who rescued me, even though he thinks I’m a spy of his enemy. I never thanked you for that.”

He looked away, and shrugged. “You’re welcome.”

Gwen studied his profile. In the tavern, many also spoke of how handsome Arthur was and as she sat here, with the sun setting in a halo of pink and orange, and with a softness in his face that she rarely saw, Gwen couldn’t help but agree. He elicited such a mess of emotions in her, now that she was spending so much time with him. He was, as the people said, arrogant and annoying, but he had shown her glimpses of kindness, courage and humour.

She shouldn’t be spending so much time thinking about Arthur. She needed to focus on the mess that she was in, and hope that Lancelot would regain his memory soon.

“The people also say you’re brilliant with a sword and a delight to watch in tournaments.”

This made him smile. “You would find it boring. I saw you at training.”

“A tournament is very different from training.”

“There is one coming up soon,” said Arthur, with a smirk. “I’ll win it, of course. But you should come.”

“Will Lancelot be participating?”

“If he feels up to it. I have to get back to the castle. Father will expect me for dinner.” He stood. “And I suppose you are dying to see Lancelot.”

“Of course.” The lies were so easy now, she barely realised she was lying.

 

* * *

 

“How are you feeling? Recovered from yesterday’s training?” Arthur clapped a hand on Lancelot’s shoulder.

“I feel good, my lord. Physically, at least.”

“Still no memories?”

Lancelot sighed. “No. There are images, but -” He flushed, a deep red creeping up his neck. “They don’t make any sense.”

“Are they of Gwen?” That wasn’t the question he meant to ask. Not really.

Surprise crossed Lancelot’s face. “No. Not Gwen.”

Arthur ignored the inexplicable sense of relief at Lancelot’s words. “What are the images of?”

“I think my brain is messed up,” said Lancelot with a shake of his head. Frustration was evident in his tone and Arthur felt a pang of sympathy for his friend.

He squeezed Lancelot’s shoulder. “Has Gaius said anything?”

“He hopes that with time, my memories will come back.” Lancelot picked up a shield from the ground, then examined it with more attention than it deserved. “I want them back now. If - I think that -”

“Hey, the page boys are all warmed up. When are you coming out with the shields and maces?” Gwaine swaggered into the armory, took one look at Lancelot and frowned. “Is Arthur bullying you?”

“I’m not, Gwaine. You’re the bully here. Lancelot has just recovered and you’re giving him such duties.”

Gwaine raised his arms. “Oh no. He volunteered. Let me help you so Arthur won’t get on my back about this.” Gwaine grabbed some maces off the weapons rack. “Merlin is out there, asking where you are. That’s when I realised you have been here for too long.”

“Merlin.”

“Grab the shields, Lancelot. Surely you remember what those are. Come on.” Without a look back, Gwaine walked off.

“You know,” said Lancelot. “I’m not feeling so good. Perhaps -”

“Do you want to rest?” Arthur took the shield from him and peered at his face. Lancelot looked a little strained, a slight frown between his eyes. “You probably pushed yourself too hard.”

“Thank you, my lord.” Lancelot bowed then walked away.

Arthur dropped the shield to the ground.

“Merlin,” he yelled, walking to the training ground. “Get the shields.”

“What about Lancelot?” Merlin’s gaze darted around Arthur, clearly searching out Lancelot.

“Said he wasn’t feeling well.”

“I have to go,” said Merlin. “One of the page boys can get the shields”

“Merlin!” But his manservant was jogging away from the training ground. Arthur swore and wondered why he always let Merlin get away with such nonsense.

 

* * *

 

Arthur lingered at the entrance to his chambers, watching Gwen as she smoothed her hands over his sheets, tugging and tucking in the corners. She picked up one of his pillows, fluffed it, then unlike Merlin who simply tossed them, placed it deliberately on his bed. Then, she took a step back, arms on her hip as she examined her work.

The slight furrow of her brows, the bottom lip caught between her teeth and the strength in her posture led to a strange feeling in Arthur’s stomach. Arthur may have been spending most of the last two days with Gwen, a result of having her take over much of Merlin’s duties, but he still found his reaction to seeing her disconcerting. She was, as he learned much earlier, opinionated and it only took a little nudging for her to share them with him. It was how he learned that she was also observant and smart. And she made him laugh.

As he stood and looked at her, he wondered how he could ever have thought that she was a spy for Hengist. But that meant she was Lancelot’s betrothed, and Arthur wasn’t quite sure why that didn’t make him happy.

He cleared his throat and she quickly dropped her arms and dipped her head.

“I’ve finished cleaning your chambers and your bed is ready. Is there anything else you wish me to do?”

“Will you be having dinner with Lancelot again?”

“I believe so.” Her gaze skittered away from his and she stared at some point beyond his shoulder. “He still doesn’t remember much.”

The misery in her voice pierced Arthur’s heart. He wanted to hug her, tell her that Lancelot would remember her and that everything would be fine. But all he did was curl his fingers into fists and stare at her.

“If you don’t need -”

“It must be hard when the man you’re going to marry doesn’t remember you.”

She stilled, and her eyes snapped back to his. “I told you that I am not a spy.”

“I was being sincere,” said Arthur, reaching out a hand but stopping short of touching her. “I really am sorry this has happened.”

“I just want it all to be over. I want to go back to my life before this all happened.” Her smile was shaky and she started to move away.

Arthur hand closed around her wrist, stopping her. “Has working for me been that bad?”

“Not everything is about you.”

Her tone made Arthur smile. He tugged at her hand gently and she moved closer to him. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” Then, with barely a pause, she continued. “What if Lancelot never remembers?”

“He will and even if he doesn’t, he loved you before. He will love you again.”

“For a man who has never loved, you seem to know a lot,” said Gwen. The small smile he had elicited disappeared and her eyes clouded. “It’s not that simple.”

“Of course it is.”

“I made a mistake and I don’t know how to make it right.”

“What did you do?”

Gwen licked her lips and stared at him. Her eyes were wide pools of worry and fear and an overwhelming sense of protectiveness filled him. He gave into it, tightening his grip on her wrist.

“Whatever you did, it can’t be that bad.”

“I - When Lancelot got injured, I was so scared. I thought that - I -” She let out a sigh and squeezed her eyes shut. “I -”

“Arthur.” Arthur dropped Gwen’s hand, then spun around to see Gwaine looking curiously at them. “Your father calls. Hengist has attacked again.”

“You should go,” Gwen whispered, before rushing past him and Gwaine.

“You and Lancelot’s betrothed looked close,” said Gwaine, disapproval dripping from his voice. “Lancelot -”

“There is nothing happening,” said Arthur. “Let’s go. What do you know of the new attack?”

Hengist was growing bolder, attacking a village that sat just within Camelot’s borders. Finally, his father was ready to move and Arthur was to get together a group of knights to visit the village and see what clues they could gather. Arthur was running through a list of things that he needed to get ready when he heard the voices - angry, frustrated, raised voices.

He walked towards the voices but just as he turned the corner, the voices stopped.

The door was not fully shut and as Arthur walked past, he saw Lancelot entwined with someone. He shouldn’t have stopped, shouldn’t have looked in. But some part of him made him pause, to stop and look as Lancelot kissed Gwen.

Only, it wasn’t Gwen that he was kissing.

Memories of Gwen’s unhappy face from earlier surfaced in his mind and Arthur saw red. Without thinking, he marched into Lancelot’s room.

“What is happening here?”

The two of them jumped apart, both staring guiltily at him.

“Get out, Merlin,” said Arthur, amazed that he wasn’t yelling. Anger coursed through him, anger for Gwen.

“Arthur -”

“Gwen is your friend! And -” He turned to Lancelot, who looked pale with shock. “And Gwen is your betrothed!”

“I started it,” said Merlin. “Don’t -”

Ignoring Merlin’s pleas, Arthur grabbed Lancelot. “She loves you. You don’t deserve her.”

“It was a mistake,” said Lancelot, so quietly Arthur barely heard it. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s my fault!” Merlin said again.

He let go of Lancelot, who stumbled away. “The two of you are a disgrace,” Arthur spat.

“Don’t tell Gwen. Please.”

Arthur eyed Lancelot. “Why shouldn’t I?”

“I promise, I’ll make it up to her. This was a mistake. It won’t -”

The door slammed, and Arthur realised that Merlin had walked out.

“I know you don’t have your memories back, but you are better than this Lancelot,” said Arthur.

Then, he too left the room, his heart pounding and his mind full of worry for Gwen. He expected Merlin to be waiting outside the room, ready with more excuses, but the corridor was empty.

Rubbing a hand across his face, Arthur leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. He, too, wanted his life to return to before Lancelot lost his memory.


	6. Chapter 6

She had barely sat down when someone banged on her door. With a sigh, Gwen stood again and yet, she could not stop the little bubbles of excitement that formed in her stomach. The sun had set. Lancelot was too much of a gentleman to visit under the cover of darkness. The prince, however, had no such qualms so it was likely to be him, coming to harass her again about her supposed connection to Hengist.

And yet, that made her smile.

She pulled open the door, about to say something snappy about his obsession with her.

But standing in front of her, half-leaning against the door frame, was a clearly distraught Merlin. Her heart caught in her throat and she wondered for a foolish moment if something had happened to the prince.

“Merlin. Oh Merlin. What happened?” Taking his hand, Gwen pulled him inside her house, easing him onto the bench at her table. Normally rather pale, this time Merlin looked even whiter, but what was more concerning was the utter misery that she could see in his face.

“Lancelot.” He had to repeat the word twice before Gwen understood him.

“Has he gotten worse? Has something happened?”

Merlin gripped her hand so tightly that she winced. “I’m so sorry, Gwen.”

“Is he dead?” Her heart stumbled. “Merlin. What happened?”

“No. He’s not dead,” said Merlin, shaking his head. Then, he pulled his hand from hers and stared at her for a beat. “Gwen, I need to tell you something.”

She nodded mutely, uncertain in the face of Merlin’s anguish. “You can tell me anything.”

Instead of telling her what was clearly troubling him, Merlin just groaned and buried his face in his hands. Hesitantly, she wrapped her arms around him, then for what seemed like a long while, she simply held Merlin.

Eventually, he eased himself out of her arms, shifted so that there was some distance between them, then stared at the empty spot on the bench. Then, words spilled from his lips - words about Lancelot, about a battle, wyverns - but Gwen’s brain couldn’t seem to comprehend them. Not really. Not when it sounded like Merlin had lied to her and somehow, made her a party to his own lies.

Merlin grabbed her hands, his eyes finally meeting hers. “I’m sorry.”

“You and Lancelot.” Even as she said the words, she still struggled to make sense of what Merlin said.

“Yes.” Merlin nodded.

“Since - for how long?”

“Maybe a few months. It just happened. I mean, I’ve always noticed him and -”

Gwen smiled slightly, even as Merlin’s confession started to coalesce into a something she could understand. “And he’s a very handsome man. Kind.”

“Too innocent,” said Merlin, “Too willing to believe the best of people.”

Gwen looked at the smile on Merlin’s face, a complete contrast to the emotions that was unfurling in her. Merlin continued to talk, but all Gwen could focus on was that her closest friend in Camelot hadn’t trusted her enough to tell her.

“You knew how I felt about Lancelot,” she said, appalled when her voice came out trembly and thick. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Letting go of her hands, Merlin rubbed the back of his neck, then sighed. “At first, I thought it was just a physical thing -”

“Even if it was a physical thing -” Gwen sucked in a breath, trying to stop herself from sounding like she was going to cry. She wasn’t even sure why she was on the verge of tears. Her feelings for Lancelot, whatever they are, were based on nothing but fantasy. “You must have thought that I am such a fool.”

Merlin shook his head, the horror in his eyes at her words enough to ease her feelings. He stood and started to pace. “I never thought that you were a fool, Gwen. I would never think that. It’s just that we got so used to keeping it a secret, especially from Arthur -”

“Why do you need to keep this a secret from Arthur?”

“Because. I’m just a manservant. I am his manservant. And Lancelot - he has his own reasons.”

Her mind continued to swirl as she tried to understand. “Of all the concerns Arthur has about my relationship with Lancelot, none of it was about me being a servant.” She laughed without humour. “He was convinced I was a spy for Hengist. Turns out I am just a plain, simple fool.”

Merlin sat down again, closer this time. He cupped her face. “You are not a fool. I was. I should have told you once you told me about your lie. That’s why I was confident Lancelot would go along with the plan, until he lost his memory.”

“And now we’re lying to Lancelot,” said Gwen, shifting so that Merlin was no longer touching her. “Unless he knows and -”

“He doesn’t. Only -”

“Only?”

“We kissed.”

Gwen blinked. “You kissed. And you didn’t bother to tell Lancelot?”

“I would have. I was going to,” said Merlin. “Except Arthur caught us.”

Gwen repeated Merlin’s words slowly.

“He got really angry, and I was upset.” He threw his arms up. “So I walked out.”

“And Arthur?”

“I don’t know,” said Merlin, jumping off the bench once again. “I should go to Lancelot. Explain. About everything.”

“You should.”

Merlin nodded, then with another apology, rushed out of the door.

To Lancelot.

In her head, she could understand why Merlin had kept his relationship with Lancelot a secret. Yet, in her heart, the mix of hurt and embarrassment made her feel both vulnerable and angry. And for a small moment, Gwen allowed herself to wallow in self-pity, the tears that she’d kept in check, rolling down her cheeks. She closed her eyes and placed her head down on her table.

Morning broke, the soft dawn light streamed through Gwen’s window, onto her face. But it wasn’t the sun that woke her up. It was the incessant banging on her door.

With a groan, Gwen lifted her head from her table and pushed her hair back from her face. Her shoulders ached from the awkward sleeping position and Gwen stretched, trying to work out the kinks. Her brain still fuzzy, Gwen wondered why she was sleeping at the table and why her eyes felt swollen and crusted.

The knocking continued.

“Gwen! Open the door!”

The sound of Arthur’s voice jolted her fully awake. What was the crown prince doing at her door in bright daylight, creating such a ruckus? The last thing she needed was rumours and gossip about her and the crown prince. Jumping from the bench, she rushed to the door and flung it open.

“What are you doing?”

In the sunlight, his blonde hair gleamed and Gwen became starkly aware of how much of a mess she looked. He must have agreed with her assessment because Arthur was staring at her with a frown on his face and worry in his eyes.

“Gwen,” he finally said.

Then, she noticed a few passers-by looking over at them. “You should come in.”

He was still staring at her, and it took a moment before he seemed to realise she had spoken. Glancing around, he entered her house, looming in the doorway until she gestured for him to move further in.

“Why are you here?” She rubbed at her eyes, trying to clear the fog in her brain.

“You’re late for work,” said Arthur, still frowning down at her.

Memories of the previous night came flooding back, and with them, the familiar feelings of hurt and shame. She tried a smile. “I overslept. I will stay longer this evening - why are you looking at me like that?”

Arthur dragged a hand through his hair. “If you’re not feeling well, you don’t have to come to work. I just - I don’t know why - I wanted to see if Merlin -”

His words trailed off and a flush rose in his face. He raised a hand, almost as if he was going to touch her, then dropped it.

“My lord,” she said, warmth filling her as she realised that Arthur had come to see her because he was worried about her. “I’m a little hurt, a little embarrassed but I will be fine.”

Her words seemed to ignite something in Arthur. The crease between his eyes deepened and this time, he took hold of her shoulders. His fingers dug into her flesh, almost painful, but his touch sent a little shiver through her.

“A little hurt? A little embarrassed?” Arthur was almost shouting, his voice seething with frustration. “I was right. They don’t deserve you. Did you just give them your blessings after all they had done?”

“That’s probably a bit too much, even for me. I suppose I will eventually. It’s not like Lancelot was ever going to fall in love with me.” And as Gwen said those words, she realised that the hurt she felt was more about Merlin’s deceit than Lancelot’s lack of interest in her.

“What are you talking about? He must have been in love with you - the two of you were going to marry!”

And only then did Gwen remember that Arthur didn’t know about her lie. All the warm feelings drained out of her, replaced by fear. She could continue to lie to Arthur. Surely Merlin would convince Lancelot to cover up on her behalf, assuming that Lancelot took being lied to by the man he loved well. For all she knew, Lancelot now hated both her and Merlin, not that she could blame him.

She looked at Arthur, indignant and angry on her behalf. Perhaps it was time for all the lies to end. And a tiny part of her willed Arthur to forgive her as she opened her mouth.

“We were never going to marry.”

“What?”

“Lancelot and I - we were not going to marry.”

His hands dropped from her shoulders, and Gwen shivered not just at the loss of his warmth, but at the way his eyes cooled at her words.

“You said -” He turned away sharply from her. With his back to her, he continued to talk, his voice flat. “So my suspicions were right. You aren’t Lancelot’s betrothed.”

“I’m not a spy for Hengist either.”

“I’m supposed to believe you now?”

Gwen moved towards him, and he stiffened. That slight movement tore at Gwen’s heart, and she was desperate to make Arthur understand. “I just wanted to see him in the infirmary when he was injured and then, it got out of hand and I -”

“I believed you. Despite my misgivings, I believed you. What a fool I am.” He swung back around to look at her. Instead of the worry and concern she’d seen in his face earlier, now she simply saw a cold mask. “I should have you arrested.”

She froze. “No.”

His laugh was cold and bitter. “Don’t worry. I won’t because I just want to pretend none of this ever happened.” Arthur stomped to the door and yanked it open with such force that it shook on its hinges. “But if there is any hint that you are working with Hengist or any of Camelot’s enemies, then you’ll be put into jail immediately.”

“Arthur -”

“You should be addressing me as my lord,” he said. “You will no longer work as my personal servant. Nor Morgana’s.” Then, the door slammed and Gwen felt her heart crack.

For a while, she couldn’t move. Her hands gripped her skirts, and she just stood in the middle of her home, staring at her door. The tears that scalded her cheeks were nothing like the tears she shed last night. Then, she’d been feeling sorry for herself. This time, she felt like she had lost something important. All she could hear were her own harsh breaths. She squeezed her eyes shut.

A quick wash of her face, brush of her hair and a change of clothes made her look more presentable, even as she still felt awful inside. She might no longer be a personal maidservant to either of the royal siblings, but hopefully she still had a job in the castle because what she needed now was a way to forget everything and to ignore the emotions that churned in her. Slipping her shawl over her shoulders, she made her way to work.

A group of knights walked past her, and instinctively, she ducked into an alleyway. They were far too engrossed in their conversation to even notice her, yet she kept herself hidden until they passed. Then, keeping her head low, she walked into the castle. A part of her wanted to look for Merlin and see if he’d spoken to Lancelot. But another part of her still nurtured the hurt she felt at Merlin’s lies. In the end, it was easier to simply go to the kitchens. She doubted that Lancelot would want to see her now. And really, she didn’t want to see him either.

 

* * *

 

Gwen had managed to avoid Arthur, Lancelot and the other knights for two days through careful planning of her day. It was cowardly of her - she did owe Lancelot an apology at the very least, especially since aside from her own personal embarrassment and Arthur’s anger, there had been no major consequence to her lie - but she didn’t quite feel up to it. It helped also that the prince had left with Gwaine and some other knights to examine the damage done by Hengist. She’d stood at one of the windows of the castle on the morning he’d left and watched him ride out with his men. For a brief moment, from his horse, Arthur had looked up, in her direction, as if he could sense her presence, but there was no smile.

She watched until she couldn’t see them anymore.

“Gwen.”

Her arms elbow-deep in a tub of soapy water, Gwen stiffened. She took a few deep breaths to calm her racing heart before drying her hands and turning around.

“Merlin. Hey.”

He looked around. “You’re alone?”

“Yes. I said I would finish the washing up.”

“And I’m sure everyone was eager to run off.” Merlin shook his head, then walked over to her and picked up a dirty bowl. “You don’t have to punish yourself this way.”

“I’m not punishing myself.”

Merlin merely made a disbelieving noise, then dipped the bowl into the tub. Gwen glanced at him, about to stop him but the look he returned to her silenced her. Instead, standing side-by-side, the two of them finished up the washing.

“Thank you.”

“Join us for supper,” said Merlin as he dried his hands. “Lancelot and me.”

Her hands in her skirts, Gwen shook her head. “I had a long day -”

“Come on, Gwen.” Merlin nudged her gently. “Don’t give me that rubbish. I know you’ve been avoiding the two of us. I don’t blame you. This whole mess - I shouldn’t have lied to you.”

“You shouldn’t have,” agreed Gwen.

“I don’t want to lose your friendship.”

Sometimes, Gwen wondered if Merlin did all this on purpose, saying the right things in order to manipulate her into doing what he preferred. But one look at the guileless look on his face, together with the hopeful smile, and Gwen’s thoughts disappeared, her heart softened and she nodded.

Merlin’s smile, wide and bright, was enough to make Gwen believe she’d made the right decision. His hand took hers, and they walked out of the kitchen towards Lancelot’s chambers.

“Look who I’ve managed to convince have supper with us?” Merlin pushed the door to Lancelot’s chambers open casually. It was a small thing, nothing that Gwen would usually pay attention to, but it was that little moment that finally solidified in Gwen the fact that Merlin and Lancelot were together.

Lancelot rose from his seat, with the grace and chivalry that she had always associated with him. On cue, her heart sped up and she could feel a blush rising in her cheeks, especially when he smiled.

“Gwen!”

Unsure of what to do, Gwen quickly dropped into a curtsey. She felt Lancelot’s hands on her upper arms, urging her to stand.

“What are you doing?” Amusement made his voice warm. “I think we have gone beyond the need for such gestures.”

“I owe you an apology,” said Gwen, pleased that her voice came out steady. “For the lie that I told.”

“And I owe you thanks, for looking after me.” Lancelot took her hands in his, squeezing them. “I think we can call it even between us.”

“Lancelot doesn’t believe that I could have done as good a job as you,” said Merlin. He walked past them and his arm slid around Lancelot’s waist. “He’s probably right. Arthur would not have understood my constant absence.”

Gwen lifted her eyebrows at those words. “You’d be surprised.”

Lancelot moved to the large table that stood in the middle of his room. It was only then that Gwen noticed the food and drink spread across it. Merlin grinned when he saw her surprise, then gestured for her to sit.

“I procured this from the kitchens while you were washing up.”

“Impressive work,” said Gwen.

Lancelot laughed. “He has his uses. Merlin says that you enjoy the fresh fruits.”

Throughout supper, it was Merlin who held court, regaling them with tales of his misadventures as a servant, many of the retellings embellished to cast himself in a more favourable light. And although Gwen had been present at some of these incidents, she allowed Merlin his versions. She watched the way Lancelot looked at Merlin, with a softness and awe in his eyes that she’d never seen before. Their hands were entwined on the table and it was clear that despite Lancelot’s lack of memories, the connection between them was strong. She almost felt jealous.

“The knights were quite sympathetic about our break up,” said Lancelot. “They like you.”

Gwen lifted her brows in disbelief. “I barely interacted with them.”

“You always sell yourself short, Gwen,” said Merlin. “You’re immensely likeable.”

Merlin’s words warmed her, but she still rolled her eyes at him. That made him laugh.

“No one knows that I lied?”

“No. Merlin and I are going keep things under wraps for a while so it doesn’t seem too suspicious.”

“I’m not sure what Arthur thinks,” said Merlin. “He’s refused to say more than a few words to me, and now he’s run off to hunt Hengist down. At least we can avoid dealing with him knowing for a while.”

Gwen hadn’t thought of Arthur the whole evening, but hearing his name made her heart contract and the brief look that he’d given her just before he left flashed through her mind. No wonder she’d hadn’t seen him at all. She licked her suddenly dry lips before speaking. “I didn’t realise he would be riding out

Lancelot let out a sigh. “I was supposed to lead the men out. Then, Leon told me just yesterday morning that Arthur and Gwaine were going out instead. No explanation but it’s not hard to guess why.”

“I’m sorry -”

“Don’t,” said Merlin. “It’s my fault as well. Arthur doesn’t like being lied to. And he doesn’t like being the fool. So he’s acting out. He will get over it soon enough. He’s forgiven others for much worse.”

Gwen’s gaze dropped to the table. Arthur would probably forgive Merlin and Lancelot, but she wondered if he would forgive her. The moment that thought ran through her head, she scoffed inwardly. She might be in a knight’s chambers right now, partaking in supper with him and Merlin, but she had to remember that she was just a maidservant. It was more likely that Arthur would forget about her than forgive her.

Merlin nudged her gently. “There’s wine, fruit and bread. Don’t look so gloomy.”

“All stolen from the kitchens.”

The grin that spread across Merlin’s face was contagious. “And never caught. Well, maybe once or twice, but Arthur has always had my back.”

“So he’s not as annoying as you pretend.” Gwen tried to keep her tone casual. Getting to know Arthur over the past couple of days had made her curious about him, but it was a curiosity that she was going to keep to herself.

Merlin lifted his legs and placed them on a nearby empty chair. “Oh he’s annoying.”

“He’s a good man,” said Lancelot, with a slight disapproving shake of his head which Merlin simply dismissed with a wider smile and a shrug of his shoulders.

“You are a good man, saying this when he threw you off the Hengist team, not that I’m complaining.”

“As you said, he’ll get over this,” said Lancelot. “Although I’m not sure why he is so upset over this.” Then he looked at Merlin. “Maybe -”

Merlin threw up his hands. “Oh no. The only feelings Arthur has for me are annoyance and frustration. He really should be feeling gratitude, but he’s a too spoiled -”

Listening to the two of them discuss Arthur made Gwen’s stomach churn. “Let’s not talk about Arthur -”

“Gwen has brilliant ideas. Listen to her.” Merlin lifted his goblet filled with stolen mead. “How about we talk about plans for the next few days since Arthur is not going to be around?”

 

* * *

 

Merlin and Lancelot both offered to walk her home.

She pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders and hurried down the cobbled path that led to her home, The night was warm with nary a breeze stirring. She could hear the heavy steps of the guards patrolling the area. Some recognised her, nodding in greeting that she returned with a smile and curtsy.

Some might have had a glimmer of pity in their eyes, but it was difficult to be sure in the darkness.

The evening with Merlin and Lancelot had eased her heart greatly and she hoped that now, the two of them were spending some much needed time together thinking about themselves instead of worrying about her. This was, she told herself, the best possible outcome of the whole farcical mess that she’d started. Her job in the castle was safe and hopefully, after some time, she could return to work for Morgana. As competent as Sefa was, Morgana had very exacting standards and she was already listening to Sefa complain about them. In fact, Gwen suspected that Morgana would be demanding her return pretty soon, and Arthur might be the crown prince but she doubted he would hold fast in the face of an irate Morgana.

She opened the door to her home and dropped her shawl onto the table.

Just a few more weeks and things would return to normal. Then, when she closed her eyes, she wouldn’t see Arthur’s image floating in her mind anymore. And she would stop feeling that strange mess of emotions whenever she thought of him.

More importantly, she would stop thinking about him.

That, more than anything, would make her happy, she told herself as she lay down on her bed and remembered the way Arthur’s eyes crinkled and shone when he laughed.


	7. Chapter 7

As expected, it had been wild goose chase. Hengist and his men were long gone by the time they arrived in the village but seeing first hand the destruction that Hengist had wrought only solidified in Arthur the need to do something, his father’s politics be damned.

Gwaine collapsed on the ground next to him.

“That’s the last of our supplies. I’m not sure how we will get home now.”

“Don’t be dramatic. It’s a two day ride, and I’m sure you’re handy with a bow. Hunt some fowl or boar, and we’ll survive.”

“We can’t keep running these missions this way,” said Gwaine. “Rushing to ransacked villages and giving them all our supplies. It’s little more than a bandage on a severed limb.”

Arthur slanted him a look, adjusted his bedroll and lay down on it, staring up at the inky sky. “We did get confirmation that Hengist was with Cenred’s knights.”

“I’m surprised that the villagers talked. I thought they would be too afraid of Hengist and Cenred to incur their wrath.”

“Gwen said -” Arthur sighed. “Perhaps it’s about time we dealt with Cenred, face to face.”

Gwaine continued to lounge on the hard ground, his hands fussing with some pebbles he’d picked up. Arthur stared at the half-wilted flower in his hand, unsure why he'd even picked it up in the first place. They had just decided to make camp when Arthur had noticed the small clump of white wild flowers nestled unobtrusively in some grass. Beautiful yet unnoticed. Impulsively, he picked a single flower.

“It’s a good thing you did for Lancelot.”

His hand tightened around the stalk of the flower, almost bending it into half. Keeping his eyes focused on the ground in front of him, Arthur shrugged.

“Without you around, he and Gwen can spend time together -”

“What are you talking about?” The flower dropped to the ground as Arthur looked up at Gwaine, who was still focused on the rocks in his hands. “I never stopped him from spending time with Gwen.”

Gwaine met his eyes. “You’re always around.”

“I live in the castle.”

“Knights, like maidens, talk,” said Gwaine. “They have noticed you walking Gwen home.”

Arthur lay down on the bedroll, staring up at the inky sky so he didn’t have to look at Gwaine’s searching eyes. “It didn’t seem right, letting her walk home alone.”

“And you do that for all women in the castle, do you?”

There was a thread of amusement in Gwaine’s question that only annoyed Arthur more. He hadn’t spent all that time with Gwen because he enjoyed it. He was looking out for Lancelot and Camelot. And he had been right - she had lied about being betrothed to Lancelot. Who knew what else she was lying about.

“I’ve never even seen you escort Morgana -”

“Do I need to remind you that just two weeks ago, she bested you -”

A rustle of grass and Gwaine was standing, grinning down at him, arms crossed over his chest. “As I recall, you didn’t dare take her on. And, please, I let her win.”

“Sure you did.”

Gwaine’s shoe nudged against his side. “Lancelot is a good man. A good knight.”

“I know that.”

“And Gwen -” He shrugged. “I like her.”

Arthur closed his eyes. “You barely know her and there isn’t a woman I’ve known you not to like.”

“I don’t like my sister.”

“Go away, Gwaine.”

A moment later, he heard the crunch of grass. Flinging an arm across his eyes, Arthur listened to his own breathing, trying to fall asleep. But despite his best efforts, he found himself, like every other night, running through all his interactions with Gwen, trying to find something - only he didn’t know what he was trying to find and if he even wanted to find it. Dawn broke and Arthur wasn’t even sure if he had slept.

The horses trotted into the courtyard where a small crowd had gathered to welcome them home. None of them were Gwen. Merlin stepped from the crowd and helped Arthur with his horse, gathering the reins and leading it back to the stables. Within moments, the crowd had dwindled and Arthur stood at the steps all alone. Four days of dirt, grime and exhaustion clung to him. Dragging his hand through his hair, he trudged up the stone steps.

Merlin should be preparing a bath for him, but instead of making his way to his room, Arthur walked to his father’s room. Hopefully, the conversation would be short and civil. He turned the corner and walked straight into Gwen.

A basket separated them. She clutched the basket of laundry to her chest, like a shield, and she stared up at him, her lips parted and her eyes wide. His heart raced, and in that moment, as he looked into her familiar face, it struck him that he had missed her.

But before he could say anything, with a jerk, she curtsied.

“Your highness.” Her eyes slid from his and focused on the ground in front of them.

“Gwen.” Words deserted him.

She looked up, their eyes meeting for a brief moment. Then, she broke eye contact, darted around him and scurried down the corridor. Arthur reached out an arm, bracing himself against the cool stone wall. His heart pounded in his ears as he fought the urge to turn around and go after her.

Taking a few deep breaths, Arthur continued to his father’s room. The discussion, much to Arthur’s relief was quick and he received permission from his father to finally do something about the raids. The question now was what? Several possibilities floated in his mind and for an unguarded moment, he thought about talking to Gwen about them.

He shook his head to get rid of the thought and headed back to his room, where he hoped, for Merlin’s sake that a nice hot bath would be waiting for him.

Despite his misgivings, at the urging of his knights, Arthur went to the tavern after dinner. Some of the knights, including Leon and Lancelot, were already there, tankards in their hands, chatting happily. As Arthur approached them, he forced a smile on his face, pulled out a chair and sat down.

“Mead?” Leon had clearly started drinking much earlier.

“Sure,” said Arthur, accepting the tankard that Leon pushed at him. “What are we drinking to?”

“Lancelot is a newly single man.”

“Rowan -”

Lancelot gulped down his drink. “It’s fine. It was an amicable break up.”

He was protecting Gwen. Or perhaps he was protecting himself. Arthur’s stomach dipped and he wrapped his hand around the tankard. The conversation, courtesy of Leon, quickly turned to other matters and as the knights drank progressively more, the conversation got more bawdy. Finally, Leon decided that enough was enough, and ordered all the knights back to the castle. Still laughing and bantering, the group of knights trudged out of the tavern with barely a complaint, a testament to Leon’s leadership. Arthur was lucky to have him.

“My lord.”

Arthur turned to see that Lancelot was still at the table. He didn’t need this.

“You should return to the castle too.”

“I wanted to have a word -”

His tankard was empty and Arthur waved for a refill. “I’m not going to reveal Gwen’s subterfuge, although I would prefer it that you were not involved in it. I would like to be able to trust my knights.”

“Gwen didn’t mean any malice.”

Arthur stood. “Great. Now we can all go back to how things were before.”

“Merlin and I -”

“I don’t care what the two of you do in your spare time,” said Arthur, turning away from Lancelot. “I really don’t want to know.”

 

* * *

 

Arthur stared at the map he’d unrolled. The red crosses marked the places Hengist had attacked, while the black ones marked where he and his men had been rumoured to have been seen. If he’d any doubts that Cenred was in league with Hengist, they were mostly dissipated by what he was looking at. Stuck between Camelot and Cenred’s lands was Caerleon - weakened after the death of their king and namesake. And most of Caerleon’s outer villages had already been attacked.

His door opened and Arthur looked up to see Merlin saunter in, late as usual.

“Breakfast?”

With a flourish, Merlin set down a plate laden with food. “Brought you an extra egg.”

“Are you trying to bribe me?”

“To do what?” Merlin tilted his head, an innocent smile on his face.

“You’re late. I’m awake and dressed.”

Merlin’s smile only widened. “I knew you could do it. You’re growing up - becoming more independent. Oh, are you planning a move on Hengist?”

Arthur rolled up the map and tucked it away. “I might be. We need to strike first before he does.

Merlin pulled out a chair and sat across the table from Arthur. Resting his arms on it, he leaned forward. “And do you have a plan?”

Arthur supposed that Merlin was as good as anyone. With a sigh, he outlined the few options he had come up with.

By the time dusk arrived, Arthur had spoken to several people about his plans, including Leon and Gwaine and he was exhausted. A walk and fresh air, he decided, would help him clear his head and stretch his limbs.

He noticed her immediately.

She was pulling her her shawl around her shoulders when she stilled.

He should have turned and walked back into the castle. The castle gardens were a perfectly good place to stroll. But, instead, his feet brought him to where she stood. She kept her eyes on him as he moved towards her.

“My lord.”

“Gwen,” he said. “Going home?”

“Yes, my lord. Excuse me.”

She made to slip around him but his hand shot out, stopping her. Under his hand, Arthur could feel the roughness of the cloth, the warmth from her skin and the tension in her as she held herself perfectly still.

“Let me walk you home.”

Shock flashed across her face, quickly replaced with suspicions. It almost made Arthur smile how easy it was to read her emotions.

“I don’t think it’s -”

“Necessary?”

“Appropriate. I do not think that we have much to say to each other now.”

“I -”

“You said that you wanted to forget everything.”

Arthur scowled. “I’ve had time to think.”

“I know I am a mere maidservant, but I am not at the mercy of your fickle emotions.” A pause. “My lord.”

His hand tightened on her arm and she winced, making Arthur drop his hold immediately. “Surely I am owed an explanation?”

She actually scoffed at him, although she tried to hide it. “Why do you care, my lord? I will keep out of your way and I hope that you will keep out of mine.”

He should walk away, say good riddance to her and the tangled web she weaved in him.

“Gwen, please.”

“I need to fetch water for tonight.” She tugged at her shawl again, then hurried down the steps to the courtyard.

It was not an outright refusal, so followed her down the steps, keeping himself slightly behind her. Her hair was tied up, allowing Arthur the pleasure of looking at her bare neck as he wondered what he was doing.

“Let me,” he said when they reached the well. Taking the bucket from her hands, he lowered it into the well. She said nothing as the bucket hit the water with a splash and she said nothing when he pulled it out.

This time, they walked side-by-side to her little house. Occasionally, their hands would touch. Almost immediately, Gwen would jump away from him.

“Thank you,” she said, taking the bucket from him. Then, she sighed. “Did you want to come in?”

He nodded, following her into her home. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, she moved to the stove, starting a fire to warm up the house. He sat at the table, waiting for her. Instead of joining at the table, Gwen stood near the stove, her serious gaze upon him.

“I think I know where Hengist will attack next.” On the battlefield, Arthur feared little. Yet here, in this house, he found himself too much of a coward to ask the one question that had plagued him since he discovered the lie.

It was the right thing to say. She relaxed visibly and walked to the table. “When will you be riding out?”

Her confidence that he would do the right thing warmed him more than the dancing flames. Tension eased out of him and he found himself sharing with her the plans that he’d spent the whole day working on. He spoke, using her table and various objects around - including an apple, a mug and a spoon - to explain what he hoped to happen. And it must have been dull, listening to him ramble about politics and military tactics, but she sat there, seemingly concentrating on his words, asking the occasional question.

“How confident of success are you?”

Arthur put the mug that was Hengist down. “It depends on how my meeting with Queen Annis goes. The only contact that we have had since her husband’s death was to deny her petition for help again Hengist.”

“Was it you who delivered it?”

“No. We sent a messenger.” Arthur ran a hand through his hair. “It was disrespectful, I know. But father -”

Her fingers played with the spoon - Cenred’s men. “It’s a good idea that you pay Queen Annis a visit while your men go to the village.”

“Lancelot will lead them. Despite his memory loss, he’s keen and he’s confident.” Arthur watched her face closely as he said that.

The spoon fell to the table and she looked away from him. “He will be pleased to be given such a responsibility.”

“If he ends up in the infirmary again, I’ll ensure you have access to him.”

A smile lifted her lips. “I’m sorry I lied.”

Arthur nodded. “We all make mistakes.”

Her eyebrows went up. “Perhaps you owe me an apology too.”

“For?”

“For accusing me of being in league with Hengist. You obviously don’t believe that now since you’re telling me of your plans to - unless -”

“No - I believe you,” he said. “And I apologise as well. Although I was right that you were lying - I was simply wrong about what.”

Gwen actually rolled her eyes at him, but softened it with a smile. It made his insides warm.

“How is your leg? Lancelot said that you need to learn to protect yourself.”

She reached down and rubbed her calf under her skirts, drawing Arthur’s eyes down. “It’s fine, just a scar.”

“Is it your first?”

“I am a maidservant and I helped in my father’s smithy. Of course I’ve have other scars!”

He smiled at the indignation in her tone. “I meant is it your first battle scar?”

“It is.” Her tongue darted out, wetting her lips. “Did Lancelot say he would teach me to protect myself?”

The temperature seemed to drop. “He just said you should learn to protect yourself. Lancelot is too busy to teach you but I can ask one of the other knights to, if you wish.”

“Oh no. I wouldn’t want to take up anybody’s time. Plus, I think it’s best for me to avoid the knights for now.” She stood, signalling the end of their conversation. “It’s getting late -”

Arthur stood as well. “Thank you, for listening.”

She opened the door for him, then just as he stepped out, her hand landed on his arm. He turned, finding himself far too close to her, but he made no move to step away. Gwen, too, didn’t step back. Instead, she lifted her hand from his arm and touched his face gently.

Arthur didn’t dare move, didn’t dare breathe, lest she stopped.

“Take care.” Her breath caressed his cheek.

“I’m not leaving for another three days.”

She smiled slightly. “In case I don’t see you again.”

Arthur was still standing at her door step when she closed the door quietly. He touched his chest, his heart beating wildly under his palm. Then, after a moment’s hesitation, Arthur turned away and made his way back to the castle.

 

* * *

 

Gwen leaned her forehead against the door and closed her eyes. What did Arthur want from her? And why was she less annoyed by him than she should be?


	8. Chapter 8

Gwen ran her hands across the sheets, smoothing it down. Morgana didn’t like creases in her sheets, often claiming that they made her sleep uncomfortable. As ridiculous as that sounded to Gwen, she tried her very best to meet all of Morgana’s expectations. Morgana, despite her demands, was a good mistress. She never raised her voice or hand to Gwen, unlike some of the other nobles. But more importantly, when Gwen’s father had been seriously sick, Morgana had allowed her generous time off to be with him.

After one last inspection of Morgana’s chambers, Gwen picked up her cleaning supplies and left. Even behind the thick stone walls of the castle, she could feel the cool evening air. Stashing her supplies away, she collected her shawl and belongings, and made her way out of the castle.

She spotted him the moment she walked through the large doors, lounging at the bottom of the steps to the courtyard.

“Having trouble finding your way home?”

He merely lifted his eyebrows in amusement, then took the basket she was holding and peered into it. “Are you pilfering cloth from the castle? I’m afraid I’m going to have to arrest you.”

She rolled her eyes and reached for the basket, even though she knew that Arthur wouldn’t relinquish it. “I thought I’ll mend them when I have the time.”

“The sun has set and you’ve barely left the castle. Where would you find the time to mend these? And isn’t there a seamstress in the castle - I think her name is Amy?”

“No, her name is Lizzy and she’s swamped with work.”

Arthur shook his head. “And you’re suggesting you’re not?”

Gwen walked past him into the courtyard. Turning back, she smiled. “Are you coming?”

She wondered if doing something three times made it a habit, because this was the third night in a row that Arthur was walking her home and not because he was hoping to catch her in a lie. Honestly, Gwen had no idea what was happening, and she tried not to think about it too much, easy when work at the castle kept her busy in the day and tired at night. But since that talk, when they had exchanged apologies, something had shifted in her relationship with the crown prince. They bumped into each other more than usual in the castle and Arthur always had a smile for her, if not a few words.

As usual, they walked to her home, through the upper then the middle town, in companionable silence. Occasionally, someone would recognise him and Gwen would wonder what they thought of the prince escorting her home. But Arthur didn’t seem to care and so she never lingered much on those thoughts.

Once they reached her house, she entered, leaving her door open behind her so he could follow. He stepped inside, closing the door before settling down on the bench at her table. She lit a fire, put on some water to boil and sat down across the table from him.

“Lancelot says you all ride out tomorrow.”

“Not all,” said Arthur. “Percy will stay to ensure that nothing untoward happens here.” He looked at her and even in the dim light of the fire, Gwen could see the unsaid words in his eyes. Percy would remain to keep an eye on her. Warmth filled her and she smiled at him.

“When do you think you will return?”

“I hope that I will be back within the week.”

“And Lancelot?”

Arthur’s gaze dropped from hers and he ran a hand through his hair. “If it all goes well, within the week too.”

“Lancelot says that he’s confident -”

“You spoke to him a lot today,” said Arthur. His tone was light, but Gwen thought that he looked tense. “I thought he was supposed to be busy getting ready for tomorrow.”

“He has breaks,” said Gwen. “Did you quarrel with him?”

He ignored her question. “One would think that he would spend them with Merlin.”

“Merlin was there too, when we spoke.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “What are you implying?”

“Nothing -”

She scoffed at Arthur’s reply. “I don’t understand you.”

That made him frown. “What is there to understand?”

“Why do you walk me home?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I like talking to you. Also, it’s become a bit of a habit.”

“If you like me, then perhaps you shouldn’t be suggesting that I might be trying to seduce Lancelot. I’m not that sort of girl.”

“I did nothing of that sort.”

“Yes, you did.”

“You can’t deny that you still have feelings for him.” Arthur almost looked like he was pouting.

She blinked. “What does it matter? He is with Merlin.”

“He is,” said Arthur. Then he grinned. “Goodness knows why. I mean, Merlin’s a bag of bones and whiny -”

Gwen rolled her eyes at Arthur, even as the earlier annoyance abated and she smiled. “You don’t fool me. I know how fond you are of Merlin.”

“I’m not.” But Arthur was laughing now and that tension that had stretched between them just moments ago disappeared.

When the water boiled, Gwen made them both some tea and after the tea had turned cold, and after Arthur and her had chatted about various things - the beard that Gwaine appeared to be trying to grow, the time when Arthur, as a kid, stole pickled eggs from the kitchens, ate them all at one go then proceeded to vomit them all over his mother’s dress, the stories Gwen’s mother used to tell - Arthur finally stood to leave.

The moon hung high in the sky as they lingered at her doorway.

“I do like talking to you. I like not having to discuss politics or strategies. I like feeling like I’m not a prince.”

“Take care tomorrow,” she said, unsure of how to reply to his words.

He tucked a curl behind her ear, his hand brushing against her cheek as he did so. “Gwen -”

She sucked in a breath, hoping that he couldn't hear her suddenly racing heart.

But then, he dropped his hand and took a step back.

“Stay safe,” he said.

Gwen stood in the doorway, watching as he walked away. When she could no longer see his silhouette, she closed her eyes.

 

* * *

 

The courtyard was filled with people - knights, members of the council and many servants, scurrying around to get everything ready for the men who were riding out. From where she stood, far from the crowd, on the steps, she had a good vantage point. Arthur was talking to Merlin whose attention was, unsurprisingly, more focussed on Lancelot some distance away, saddling his horse. Eventually, Arthur shook his head and gave Merlin a shove. With a grin, Merlin pushed his way towards Lancelot. At that point, Arthur looked around, his eyes scanning the crowd.

She resisted the urge to wave, but his eyes found her nonetheless. He didn’t wave either. Instead, he threaded his way past all the people who stared curiously at him towards her. It would be rude to run, she told herself.

“Gwen.”

“You’re riding out,” she said inanely.

He smiled. “I am. Have you come to say goodbye?”

“Take care,” she said once again. “You wouldn’t want me to have to pretend to be your betrothed to visit you in the infirmary.”

His smile widened. “I wouldn’t mind. Besides -” He leaned in closer to her so that his breath brushed her ear, “I’m the crown prince. I recover in my private chambers, where you can visit any time.”

Heat rushed to her cheeks at his words and when she glanced up at him, she realised he was blushing as well, his eyes fixed to the ground.

“I didn’t mean -”

She touched his arm, and even through his shirt he could feel the warmth of her hand. “I know.”

He smiled again, then looked behind. “I have to go.”

 

* * *

 

“I should have insisted on following him.”

“Lancelot will be fine,” said Gwen with more confidence than she felt. Hengist wasn’t leading a scrappy group of bandits. He was leading trained knights from Cenred’s kingdom. “You told me that he’d prepared for various scenarios.”

“A - Z,” said Merlin with a groan. “It was all he talked about. I think that he thinks that his memory loss has lowered his standings in Arthur’s eyes and he’s desperate to prove his worth. Which is why I should have followed him.”

“You think that he would be desperate enough to do something foolish?”

“To take foolish risks.” Merlin sat up and grabbed a piece of bread. “This is hard and dry. I swear the kitchen quality is dropping.”

Gwen laughed. “You really shouldn’t be stealing from the kitchens, but thank you for the picnic. Then again, Arthur was no better than you - stealing from the kitchens.”

Merlin turned to face her, delight shining in his eyes. “Oh, and how do you know that?”

“Here and there,” said Gwen, feeling her cheeks heat. “The fruits are really fresh -”

“Arthur is still walking you home, isn't he? Despite his supposed unhappiness about your lie.”

She fussed with the plates, keeping her eyes averted from Merlin. “How can he be walking me home when he's in Caerleon?”

“I think he likes you.”

“Morgana will be expecting me soon.” She stood and smoothed down her skirts.

“The knights think that he seduced you when Lancelot was unconscious.”

That made her look at Merlin. Panic gripped her as she thought of people gossiping about her and Arthur. “What? That's ridiculous!”

He stood as well, gathering up the various plates and leftover food. “It does seem that way -”

“It’s still ridiculous! Arthur would never do anything so - so unprincipled!”

Merlin grinned at her. “You think he’s a principled man?”

“He should be, since he's a prince.”

“Never thought you were naive, Gwen. A title doesn't give a man principles.”

She stacked the plates.

“Do you like him?”

“Who?”

“Arthur, of course.”

“Are people really talking about us?” The words barely squeaked past her tightening throat.

“Of course they are,” said Merlin. “You’re the talk of the castle.The servant that the prince is mooning over.”

“I never heard -”

Merlin shrugged and picked up the stacked plates and cutlery, dropping them into the basket he’d brought. “I’m sure they wouldn’t say anything in front of you.”

Then he looked up at her and must have seen the expression on her face because the amusement faded from his eyes. “I was just teasing you - there’s not that much talk. And anyway, something else will come along and distract all these people soon enough.”

“I didn’t -”

“Gwen, you’ve never been one to let gossip affect how you live your life,” said Merlin.

She nodded, but as they made their way back to the castle, her mind whirled. She was Gwen, steady, sensible Gwen. Even as she nursed her crush on Lancelot, she’d kept it a secret, only confiding in Merlin. But Lancelot’s injury had apparently given her a personality change - she was lying, pretending to be married to a knight and now she was hanging around with the crown prince as if they were friends.

What was she doing?

 

* * *

 

Queen Annis did not like him and although she’d granted him an audience and even arranged for a feast in his honour, she made her distaste of him and Camelot known.

Still, he swallowed his pride and nodded solemnly as she slowly, politely listed out in excruciating detail how Camelot had been disrespectful of Caerleon, even when her husband has still been alive. He apologised profusely on behalf of his father, and by the end of his third day in Caerleon, he managed to win over her tentative trust, putting together a temporary treaty establishing the two kingdom’s cooperation in the face of the threat posed by Cenred and Hengist.

It was, Arthur thought, not a bad piece of negotiation. Camelot would provide the main army but Annis promised 200 men and free passage for Camelot's army through her lands. Pleased with himself, he saddled his horse and started the journey back home. With some luck, Lancelot would not only have been successful in defending the village, he would have taken Hengist into custody. That would make things a lot easier for Arthur and possibly avoid an all out war.

They arrived in Camelot just as dusk blanketed the town. As the horses trotted into the courtyard, Arthur found himself looking out for Gwen, and like clockwork, she was making her way down the steps. His heart did a little somersault as Arthur kept his eyes on her. He’d missed her, especially in the evenings after the long negotiations with Queen Annis and her council. Gwaine had been there, but talking to him wasn’t quite as satisfying. Perhaps after he reported to his father and if it wasn’t too late, he would take a walk to her house for some tea and a chat. For a while, she seemed to be deep in thought, her head lowered as she walked. Then, the clatter of horseshoes against the cobbled ground made her look up. Arthur smiled, hoping to catch her gaze, but instead of a returning smile when their eyes met, Gwen looked quickly away, lifted her skirts and practically ran away from him.

“My lord, do you wish to dismount?”

Arthur stared at the road that led to the lower town, watching as Gwen’s figure disappeared into the distance. And with every step away from his that she took, he felt a little bit more of his heart crack. Relinquishing the reins to the young stable boy, he got off his horse, muttered a few words to his knights before stomping off to his chambers. Flinging himself on his bed, he grabbed a pillow and covered his face, squeezing his eyes shut as his mind tortured him with the image of Gwen walking away from him over and over again.

“Thought you would be with your father,” Merlin’s voice filled the silence. “Did you want your bath now? You look like you could use one. Did the talks go badly?”

“The talks went great.”

“I can’t actually hear you when you’re mumbling into the pillow.” In the most unbecoming manner, his pillow was snatched from him and the bed sank. “How were the talks?”

“Do you have to sit on my bed?”

“It’s comfortable.” Merlin had the audacity to wriggle a little, settling on his bed. “The talks? Are we on the brink of a war?”

Arthur scowled at him. “No.”

“That’s good, right? So why do you look like someone ate your pickled eggs?”

“Go away, Merlin.”

“I’m just trying to be helpful.”

“You’d be a lot more helpful if you prepared my bath.”

The bed shifted again as Merlin stood. “Going to get right on it now. Don’t suppose you know when Lancelot is due back.”

Arthur’s annoyance eased a little. “The day after tomorrow, latest. He’s a good knight.”

“I was just wondering.”

Retrieving his pillow, Arthur waited till Merlin closed the door before he pulled it over his head again. A few seconds later, he threw it to the floor and walked out of his room. If Gwen was unhappy with him, he wanted to know why.

 

* * *

 

The route to her modest home was as familiar as the route from his chambers to the throne room. A light flickered in her window and when he knocked, she opened the door.

“Gwen.” Just being so close to her kicked his heartbeat up a notch.

Her tongue darted out, wetting her lips. “My lord. You shouldn’t be here.”

“Why not?”

“It’s - it’s inappropriate.”

He frowned at her words. “You never complained before.”

“I wouldn’t complain to a prince.”

“I would believe that of the other staff, but you have never shied away from telling me what you think,” he said, narrowing his eyes at her. “I thought we were friends.”

The moment the words slipped out, Arthur realised how desperately he wanted it to be true. But her statement earlier - about not complaining to a prince - made him worry that she’d been humouring him all this while.

“A prince and a maid can’t be friends.”

A chill settled around him. “So all those conversations - you were too afraid to tell me to leave you alone? Liar.”

Her chin lifted and she glared at him. But even in the moonlight, he could see the uncertainty in her eyes, and it was enough. He raised a hand, touching her cheek gently.

“What happened when I was gone?”

“Merlin said the knights - they think that you seduced me while Lancelot was unconscious.”

Laughter bubbled out of Arthur, as relief flooded through him “That’s it?”

“What would people think of me?”

“That you have good taste,” teased Arthur, his mood improving. “A prince is a step up from a knight.”

“It’s not funny,” she said, taking a step back from him, allowing the door to close a little. “You are a prince - no one cares about your dalliances with the maids. All I have is my reputation.”

“You started the lie,” said Arthur.

“And that’s why I need to stop this. I don’t want to be Lancelot’s ex-betrothed or the girl you seduced. I just want to forget everything and -”

“Forget everything,” repeated Arthur, amazed at how those two words could hurt so much.

“Yes.”

“That’s what you want.”

She nodded, her eyes downcast as her hands curled into her skirts.

“Fine.” He turned from her, about to leave, but he stopped. Turning back, he looked down into face, into the brown eyes he felt he knew so well, the ones that reflected understanding, humour and passion in all their conversations. He cupped her chin, lifting it slightly, his fingers moving slightly against her smooth skin, then he realised he didn’t have a clue what he was doing or even what he wanted from her.

Her eyes widened and her lips parted at his touch. But, aside from that, there was no other response from her. With a heavy heart, Arthur dropped his hand and he walked away, each step heavier than the last.

The castle was large enough that avoiding Gwen wasn’t too difficult, but there were still moments when he caught a glimpse of her. It felt like with each glimpse of Gwen, little shreds of his heart were being torn away. In the evenings, he stood at his window, watching her walk away from the castle - sometimes alone, sometimes with Merlin. Once, it was Lancelot who walked her home and Arthur had turned from the window immediately, a bitter taste in his mouth.

By the end of the week, he could no longer lie to himself - he missed her. The only problem was he didn’t quite know what on earth to do about it. She was probably still in love with Lancelot, and Arthur wasn’t sure what it was he felt for her.

“Tell her,” said Merlin. “Or I could do it for you.”

Arthur scowled. He knew telling Merlin was a dumb idea, yet he’d allowed Merlin to tease it out of him. “You’re not telling her anything.”

“That’s how Lancelot and I got together.” Merlin grinned. “Honesty goes a long way.”

“Say the man who keeps a million secrets.”

The grin from Merlin’s face disappeared immediately. “I don’t have secrets.”

“You do and frankly, unless you have magic or something, I don’t really care.” It was partly a lie because Arthur was pretty curious about Merlin’s secrets but at the moment, he was more interested in figuring out what to do about Gwen.

“Is she still in love with Lancelot?”

Merlin quirked an eyebrow at the question and Arthur flushed at his obvious jealousy.

“They are friends now. And even if she was, she would never -”

Arthur waved a hand. “I know she would never do anything about it. I just wondered.”

“She will be leaving the castle soon. Maybe you can ask her yourself.”

“Don’t be foolish.”

Merlin shrugged and got up from the chair he’d been lounging in. “Well, I’m going to see Lancelot. Hiding in your room sulking isn’t going to solve any of your problems. Just a thought.”

And with those words, Arthur was left alone with his thoughts. He stared out of the window at the slowly darkening sky. Looking down, he thought he saw Gwen make her way across the courtyard, but it was another servant, one who was quickly joined by her friends.

Merlin’s advice still ringing in his ears, Arthur grabbed his cloak and walked out of his chambers.

“Cenred must have gotten wind of the agreement between Queen Annis and Camelot. There have been no raids this week.”

Gwen stumbled when he spoke, almost falling down the steps. With a curse, Arthur grabbed her arm, tugging her into his body to steady her. The basket she held fell and her hands clung to his shoulders.

“I’m sorry,” she said, sounding breathless.

Arthur was having trouble breathing as well, with her body pressed against his. One of their hearts, or perhaps both their hearts, was pounding loudly. He should put some distance between them.

He meant to put some distance between them.

And yet, somehow, his lips were on hers, his arm wrapped around her waist while the other hand threaded through her hair. She stiffened, and just as he was about to pull away and apologise, she kissed him back. Her soft lips moving over his, her hands smoothing down his tunic, coming to rest lightly on his chest. Hot tendrils of desire licked their way down his veins, making his blood heat and his groin tightened. It became crystal clear exactly how he felt about Gwen - he liked her very much and he wanted more chances to kiss her, to touch her.

“My lord -”

“Arthur,” he whispered. The need for air had broken their kiss and Arthur was keen to resume it, only Gwen didn’t look as eager.

“Arthur.”

He braced himself for her anger, but instead she sighed, her palms still on his chest. “What are we doing?”

He almost replied flippantly, but he suspected Gwen would not appreciate it. So he lowered his forehead to hers. “I don’t know, but I like it.”

It wasn’t a full smile, just a slight tilt of her lips, enough to ease the tension in him. “Perhaps you should walk me home.” Her brows dipped into a frown. “To talk.”

Arthur nodded. They would talk, then perhaps they could kiss some more. He just had to know if she was still in love with Lancelot.

In her house, he sat down on the bench and gestured for her to sit with him. With a quick shake of her head, she declined and stood against her wardrobe that was placed on the opposite wall.

“We shouldn’t have kissed.” Her eyes avoided his when she said the words.

“Because a prince and a maid can’t be friends?”

“Among other things.”

His heart stilled. “What other things?”

“Friends don’t kiss like that,” she said, ignoring his question.

“I don’t want to be just friends,” he said, hoping that for once Merlin was right, that honesty would work. “I want more.”

“I’m just a maid.”

“That didn’t stop you when it came to Lancelot.”

She clasped her hands together. “That was different.”

“Because you loved - love him?” He forced the words out and watched her face closely.

Her laugh lacked humour. “I haven’t thought about him much recently. My thoughts have been somewhere else.”

Arthur stood and walked to her. “Somewhere else?”

When her tongue slipped out and wet her lips, it was all Arthur could do not to kiss her again. “Arthur, don’t -”

He took her hands, enjoying the slide of her skin against his. “I’m scared too.”

“Oh.”

“I’m scared that I’m the only one feeling this way. I’m scared that you’re going to turn me away again. I’m scared that you are still in love with Lancelot.”

She swallowed. “I don’t think I was ever truly in love with Lancelot.”

“Good,” he said and before she could say anything else, he kissed her again. Her hands slid around his neck, her fingers stroked his hair and she parted her lips, allowing his tongue access. “Don’t ask me to leave again.”

“I don’t think I could,” she said, then tiptoed and kissed him.


End file.
